Are You Terrified of Feeling Embarrassed?

We feel embarrassed when we believe we’ve violated some social norm, publicly. This can mean that we’ve either made a decision that wasn’t in line with a cultural expectation (and at least one other person knows) or that our essence (who we are), which we consider to be a deviation, has been exposed and held in contempt. Embarrassment is the revelation of shame.

Many who struggle with perfectionism isolate themselves due to a chronic fear of embarrassment. They may feel ashamed of their minds and/or bodies, as manifested in body dysmorphia. In both cases, a hyper-focus on perceived flaws, and often an exaggeration of them, contributes to the belief that even if others aren't directly expressing their disdain, they must be repulsed by the perfectionist.

The need for certainty, the belief that one knows best, and the felt sense of pity (usually because an alternative can't be imagined) contribute to the maintenance of negative beliefs around who one really is. While the individual may even admit to being a perfectionist, on the one hand, on the other, they may note they have to be because of how awful each of their flaws are. Perspective is often severely lacking.

It's been noted repeatedly that comparison is the thief of joy, yet that's only partially true. Upward comparison, only comparing oneself to others in ways that create a sense of grief (which is unfair), is the true culprit. Most of the time, perfectionists fail to register their achievements, at least in any meaningful way, discounting them as they perpetually remind themselves of what they're lacking. So, they assume that others compare them in the same ways in which they compare themselves, only tallying up all of their flaws. Yet, for the most part, people form nuanced perspectives of others, conceiving of others as they are on the whole, while acknowledging how they've developed. The grace we receive from others may feel like pity when, in reality, they apply the same standards and perspectives to others that they do for themselves.

Here's where introspection may help. We may ask:

1. Are you comparing yourself fairly? Or are you only comparing yourself upwardly, which would mean comparing yourself to an ideal human when all of the comparisons are perceived on the whole through a bird's eye view?
2. Could it be that others may notice your flaws but, in conjunction, don't think they're significant and view you as a whole individual, with strengths and weaknesses, perhaps even appreciating the totality of who you are?
3. Is it possible that you can't provide good evidence of embarrassment because what you're feeling is actually just shame? (Embarrassment should stem from proof of ridicule, which many perfectionists don't often experience, even when they aren't isolating.)

An often-repeated platitude is that you are not your trauma or not your disorder, but it's more helpful and accurate to say: You are much more than those things. It seems to be, in terms of how the mind works, that when we allow ourselves to appreciate our strengths, our weaknesses feel and seem much less significant. When viewed on the whole, everything appears to matter much less. So, if you're only comparing yourself to certain aspects of others, whether good or bad, it's easy to exaggerate your own good or bad qualities. Everything, as they say, is relative. Thus, returning to comparison being the thief of joy, I argue that comparison, in and of itself, isn't good or bad; it depends on how the process is used and to which ends.

For many of us, it would be helpful to examine the emotional payoffs of continuing to hold onto these specific beliefs. Do they allow us to continue to hide and externalize blame? Do they provide us with purpose when we believe perfection to be attainable? (We tend to seesaw from the world is unkind to I know I can and should improve.) Would we feel like imposters if we chose to believe, again based on the evidence, that we're more likable than we think? And do these beliefs allow us to continue to dream of a life liberated from sorrow and fear? Accepting that others appreciate us can feel terrifying, particularly because doing so entails living with a contradiction, or rather a paradox: I'm loved despite disliking myself.