how to stop feeling so bad about everything

on perfectionism and reframing shame

So I just started this new job teaching pre-med sciences, and for the first few weeks, I really sucked at it. One particular student approached me after class and explained, in excruciating detail, all the ways I fell short: I seemed unprepared, inexperienced, and incapable of managing a classroom.

“Have you ever taught a class before?” the student asked.

I admitted I hadn’t.

“I can tell. I expect a lot more from you.”

Ouch.

I then had a meeting with my training teacher to discuss this student’s (admittedly valid) concerns. I vented about how discouraged and ashamed, how absolutely terrible I felt.

“Hold on,” my trainer said. “Why do you feel so bad? Did you hurt anyone?”

Huh?

“Did you do anything morally or ethically wrong?” he emphasized. “Did you hurt anyone?”

Well… I guess not.

“So don’t feel bad.”

Woah.

His words have been ringing in my head ever since. Because I do. Feel bad about everything, that is.

I feel bad about not being good enough — not productive, successful, or attractive enough. I worry about coming off as awkward or uncool in conversation. I’m afraid to admit my shortcomings, convinced that people wouldn’t like or respect me if they knew.

In other words, I experience shame — deeply and constantly.

i guess it’s pretty apparent

But my training teacher suggested that if I first, do no harm, I could rationally dispel my irrational shame. In other words, a cognitive shift could resolve an emotional issue.

Was this really possible?

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To learn more, I dove into the work of leading shame expert Brené Brown.

She asserts that everyone experiences shame. This idea is supported by psychologist Paul Eckman, who, in the 1990s, added shame to his renowned list of universal human emotions.

But is this true? I wasn’t entirely convinced — so I surveyed my friends. And I found that we all experienced shame in similar ways:

(thank u to all my beautiful friends who helped me with this post)

That last response made me think.

Eddie Dalton

suggests that shame (and resulting perfectionism) helped him achieve great things in his career.

And he has a point: a sense of inadequacy can push you to compensate for your weaknesses. But at what cost?

So is it possible to pursue high standards without a debilitating sense of shame and inadequacy?

Brené Brown believes so.

She acknowledges the contradiction: sometimes, you should feel bad. Negative feelings help us learn from our mistakes.

The issue, she clarifies, is when you tie these feelings of inadequacy to your sense of self-worth. She differentiates between shame and guilt:

Shame is identity-based: you are a bad person.
Guilt is action-based: you’ve done a bad thing.

The latter is adaptive, the former, maladaptive. Guilt inspires change, whereas shame leads to stagnation. Shame perpetuates a feedback loop of avoidance and inadequacy that ultimately stunts your development.

By reframing weakness as a property of what you do rather than who you are, you allow yourself to make mistakes without devaluing your self-worth.

So you don’t have to feel so bad about everything.

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It was time to put my new cognitive tools to use.

I reframed the issue. I wasn’t a bad teacher — I was new and still learning. I focused on what actions I could take: prioritize my lesson prep and get better sleep before class.

I followed my training teacher’s advice. Whenever I felt that crushing anxiety, I asked myself: Am I hurting anyone? Then I did my best to just… release the feeling.

I’m not saying these techniques eliminated my shame or anything — I still have a lot to resolve. I’m working on being kinder to myself, giving myself grace. Forgiving myself when I make mistakes. Trying my hardest and letting go of the outcome.

But it’s a long journey and you have to start somewhere, right?

This story has a happy ending.

The next week, I came to class prepared, confident, and well-rested. I knew my material. I executed my lesson plan.

Afterward, that particular student who had complained approached me and said simply,

“That was a great class today.”

It felt pretty good.

buy me a deli sandwich