Member-only story
I’m Ashamed To Take My Shirt Off
What do you hide, even from the people who supposedly know you best?
I’ve been hiding a painful secret for more than half my life. It’s affected how I treat myself, family, friends, and strangers, essentially shaping who I’ve been. Now, I’m finally ready to shed it — prepared to shine some light on imperfections, the cost of carrying shame, and how to unburden yourself.
The urge to finally share has been like a cup slowly filling and finally brimming over the top after a conversation with my pastor.
Here goes nothing.
Pain and Shame
When I was 12, I cut my shoulder during football practice. Like the tough guy I thought I was, I wore shoulder pads without a shirt, and my upper torso took a beating.
A few days later, I realized the wound wasn’t closing. I didn’t think much of it until puberty knocked on the door, and I began experiencing face and body acne. My shoulders were especially susceptible.
And to my dismay, I began realizing that more wounds were opening than were healing correctly. Any scratch, scrape, or blemish lingered around as painful reminders of missteps and mistakes.
