Embarrassment is a feeling that everyone has experienced, yet still fears. It’s the feeling that flushes your face a bright red when you say the wrong thing, the feeling that silences a room after an unfunny joke. When you set those aside, maybe that’s what it’s all about. Maybe embarrassment is the stepping stone into shaping the person you are and becoming.
For some people, embarrassment might be the feeling that comes and goes occasionally, for me, it’s always been a constant.
When I look back on my childhood and middle school years, I reflect on a version of myself that was unapologetically loud, annoying, and weird. Not the quirky weird where you have niche interests yet still manage to have a plethora of friends, but instead the kind of weird that people would giggle at in the hallways.
All my life, I saw people trying to fit in, but I made it a personal goal to always stand out. I didn’t get embarrassed ever; awkward conversions didn’t exist, and being loud made me feel like Ella. However, that same journey people would hate to experience is exactly what I am thankful for today. Without this same journey, I wouldn’t be the person I am today, experience what I have, and most importantly, meet the people I have.
Looking deeper into my middle school years, I realize that I wasn’t stepping out of the box of normalcy; I was stomping out of it in bright yellow Crocs. While everyone was so used to fitting in, I walked down the hallways of my school looking like the human mutation of Donald Duck. I was fully convinced that my Crocs were a peak fashion choice and that I was simply ahead of fashion. I can assure you that I was not, and never have been, ahead of fashion.
My weirdness, however, didn’t fully emerge from the blue in middle school. In third grade, I went through a phase where, after I dressed up as Wednesday Addams for Halloween, I thought I had become her reincarnation. I leaned into the idea of being completely different and emotionless and wore my far from jet black hair in two braids every. single. day.
At the time of all these choices in my life, none of it ever registered as embarrassing. I felt like I was living a relatively normal life. Slowly, by my eighth-grade year, I finally noticed the distance from my peers. While I didn’t wear my hair in braids anymore, and I got rid of my awful yellow Crocs, I found myself left with nothing. I spent the rest of that year and the summer on the edge of friend groups, observing rather than actually getting the invite to participate. As much as it seems like this is a fault of my peers, I think it just showed me that I didn’t fit in. Yet.
Some of the most pivotal moments made in someone’s life are during the developmental years of High school. We arrive in a new school, with new people, new teachers, and everything is completely different. This causes most students to lose who they truly are in hopes of fitting in. I personally have fallen victim to this, when in reality I needed to be myself.
This idea isn’t minute either, school counselor Mrs. Kreitzer expanded upon the idea of high school, and how it is one of the best times to branch out and find friends.
“High school is the perfect time to do this because everybody is in that awkward stage of trying to figure out who they are, what they want to do with their lives, what they want to do with themselves. And it’s like the perfect time of like a melting pot, basically, to learn who you are, what you want to do,” said Kreitzer.
From experience, I found that when I went to high school, I felt the built-up embarrassment I had avoided for years. So, I started to blend in with what everybody else did. As a result, my freshman year became one of my most miserable years for the mere fact that I was someone I wasn’t.
Then, by some miracle in my second semester of freshman year, I met my best friend. I was in my Earth and Space Science class when we were instructed to do a group project, and after she missed a few days, my now-best friend, Addison, was put into my group. At this time, I was so quiet, but as soon as I met Addison, I felt like I got my voice back. By the end of the week, we were already planning to hang out, even after just meeting.
Mrs. Dixon was the science teacher who watched from the sidelines as our friendship emerged. Though sometimes, after we became friends, she would get mad that we talked too much, she couldn’t help but be happy we found each other.
“Ella was a very quiet, shy student at the beginning of the semester. After meeting and talking to Addie, Ella started coming out of her shell and became more social. As the semester went on, Addie and Ella became fast friends. Not only in my class, but I would see them walking with each other in the hallways too,” said Dixon.
What I fully didn’t understand in the moment was that Addison was bringing back the version of myself that I firmly thought I should leave behind. She was instead laughing with me, not at me (no matter how funny I am). She didn’t look at me as weird, loud, or annoying, but instead just as Ella. Slowly (not really), I was introduced to her other friends, Kayley and Tori. They welcomed me as I had always been friends with them. With them, I found that I didn’t have to look for a place to fit in.
Because of my newfound friends, I started to feel more comfortable being myself. While I think I will never wear my hair in braids again, or put on yellow Crocs, I don’t need to hide behind something that I’m not. I began talking a lot more, made jokes that still don’t usually land, and wore outfits I actually like.
I’ve learned that though I only have three ride or die friends, and others have at least ten filing at the door, it’s never been the number that mattered to me. It’s being accepted. Without Addison, Tori, and Kayley, it’s safe to assume that I wouldn’t have experienced the things I have now. They pushed me to join the Speech & Debate team, have cheered me on at every milestone, let me talk about anything I want, and ultimately have been there for me. I know I can be a lot, but with them, I never have to ask them to be my friend; they choose to be. Now, it’s not embarrassment as the constant in my life, but friendship.
“It’s always good to find those kinds of people who will push you to be better. So people that will laugh with you instead of at you,” said Kreitzer.
I finally understood the concept: the problem was never that I was weird; it was that the people I surrounded myself with didn’t know how to accept me for me. Embarrassment used to feel like concrete evidence that I had something wrong with me. However, I see it in a whole new light now. Embarrassment was the only way I could figure out who I am and where I belong.
¨Friendship can really help anyone become a different/better person. Friends can help to create a safe and trusting environment where you feel comfortable being vulnerable. When you surround yourself in this type of environment, you can help each other with so much personal growth. Friendships can last a lifetime; they are your chosen family,” said Dixon.
I can’t even fathom how lucky I am to have the friends that I do. They all have taught me so much uniquely. The funny thing is, I wasn’t looking for them; we met by chance. And now, I can’t imagine my life without them.
Third-grade Ella believed that she was the reincarnation of Wednesday Addams. Middle-school Ella decided to wear bright yellow Crocs every day, as if it were against my will. High school me has finally realized that those versions of myself deserved, and continue to deserve kindness, not shame.
Embarrassment is something that puts a lot of people down, makes them hide from it in fear, but it’s not something to be afraid of. While not everyone will wear bright yellow Crocs or swear they are a fictional character, I guarantee almost everyone has been embarrassed one way or another. At the end of the day, no one will remember that awful joke you made, or the little trip you had going up the stairs, because the people you should really care about don’t look for reasons to laugh at you; they help you up.
