What Embarrasses You?

This post grew out of an e-mail conversation with Dee, another cancer blogger. She's the one collecting all the boob jokes, so if you have any for her, send them her way.

She's an anthropologist, so she has an academic interest in boob jokes, not a dirty mind. (Uh, huh.)

Anyway, not to reveal the private details of what we were talking about, but it got me thinking about how tough it was to be a teenager, and how many embarrassing moments there were in those days, while now I'm not often embarrassed, and certainly not by who I am.

I think feeling like you don't belong, for whatever reason (too smart, too tall, too short, wrong color of skin), especially when you are a teenager, is embarrassing in a way we adults can barely remember. Very little embarrasses me now, but when I was a kid--oh, boy.

I had the smart thing going (I was a geek before we had a word for it) in high school, and since I was in a working class town I only had a few friends. I feel pushed out of the mainstream--once I showed up at a party in high school (with a recognized "bad boy" too) and the party literally STOPPED. Everyone was so shocked that I was there!

One of my good friends was growing up gay, although we didn't clearly realize it at the time--so you can imagine how tough that was.

And my two days without working plumbing reminded me of going to my aunt's farm in the summers. They had a well, and sometimes worried about running short of water. So I was instructed to only flush the toilet after I had gone "number 2."

I found it incredibly embarrassing to think of someone else seeing my urine in the toilet, so I flushed anyway, and got in trouble.

Having had so much cancer treatment, there is very little about my body that embarrasses me. Also, of course, growing older contributes to this lack of embarrassment.

About the only thing I can think of that would embarrass me now would be if I hurt someone's feelings. That leaves me totally red-faced and smacking myself up alongside the head.

What embarrasses you?

@ Jeanne Sather 2008.

Comments

[Dee]

One thing that embarrasses me somewhat today is how my son looks when I bring him to school. I try not to put any of my baggage on him, but still . . .

I hate sending him to school in pants that have grown too short (he's so darn tall, but so skinny that even the 7x pants he has which now sorta fit his waist are getting too short), with his hair sticking up or too long, or when his dad puts him in clothes that don't quite match. I imagine what the other parents are saying!! But, then I look at the other boys . . . sometimes their pants are too short, too, so then I feel better. They're growing after all.

I still get embarrassed when my face is all broke out from these meds.

[jeanne]

Yeah, I forgot about that one. The zits from the Tykerb embarrass me too.

The boys and clothes thing--it's hard to keep up. Both my boys were really skinny, so hard to fit in the first place, and then growing. I only bought Younger Son two pairs of pants at a time when he was in his big growth spurt.

But you don't need to worry about what he looks like until he starts worrying--THEN he will keep you on your toes about his clothes and hair (and hair products--just you wait!). It's fun, actually.

[Amorette]

I was going to college in Ithaca and stopped by this science museum to have a look around. You had to pass through the gift shop immediately inside the front door to get anywhere, so I was browsing all that on the way in and I guess I just kept wandering into the museum because there wasn't a really clear delineation between store and the rest of it.

The admission-taker (I guess that's what she was, she was behind a desk) called out politely, "May I help you with anything?" She was probably trying to gently remind me to come back and pay the fee.

But I was in browsing-mode from the store and absently said, "No thanks, I'm just looking around." Then I figured out what I was saying and came back to pay. I felt so STUPID...of course I was looking around, it was a museum! I never went back.

[Carver]

I am the same way about being embarrassed if I think I'm hurt someone's feelings. Being afraid something came out wrong or came out as a criticism is about the only thing that embarrasses me at this point in my life. However, when I was younger is a whole other story.

[Ingrid]

Strangely, I'm not embarrassed by not having any breasts as of three months ago. However, I have been embarrassed by the cold sores that I have been getting every month since I started taking tamoxifen. After having cancer, why am I obsessed with the cold sores?

I'm also embarrassed if I've been inadvertently rude to someone, so I am right with you there.

[Pam]

This is very interesting.
Those that would never think of hurting feelings are worried about doing just that.
I am no longer embarrassed by my body either. I think cancer patients lose that as soon as the therapies start. A type of wisdom and higher understanding of feelings in general seem to kick in at that point. This goes for children as well as adults.
I am embarrassed however, by my poor grammar and spelling skills. I am afraid that I will embarrass my adult children by saying or writing something wrong.
I would love to contribute more to discussions like this, but my embarrassment of my grammar shortcomings holds me back.
I am embarrassed FOR a family member who is very healthy, but complains constantly about aches and pains. I am also embarrassed for a young lady I know that is beautiful, highly educated, and very healthy, that advises "everything happens for a reason" to all who don't need her advice.

[jeanne]

Thanks, everyone, for such a great discussion. I agree with pretty much everything everyone has said--how often does that happen?

Pam--please don't stay away from commenting on my blog because you are worried about your grammar--we care about what you have to say, not those little picky things.

Much love to all of you,

Jeanne

[Dee]

By the way, Jeanne, I caught that comment about a "dirty mind"! LOL : ) Who me?

Really. I don't have a dirty mind. Boob jokes are a purely academic interest of mine. Yep. Just scholarly, truly.

Was that Shakespeare who said something like "you doth protest too much"?

Has anyone heard a good one lately?

[jeanne]

Dee--Of course. Uh huh.

Hey, why shouldn't you have fun with a subject that you have an academic interest in? Believe it or not, I found Japanese linguistics to be totally fascinating. Still do.

I'll give you an example: In Japanese, you don't, in everyday conversation, have a word for sister. You HAVE to specify, older sister or younger sister, because the words are different. That's because Japan is a very hierarchical society. I've actually heard an interpreter go into this when he was translating the word brother from English to Japanese--he said, in Japanese, "I don't know if this is an older brother or a younger brother, but anyway, a male sibling."

But I don't have any good boob jokes. Except have you heard all the mammogram jokes? That could be a subcategory. I have a couple of my blog I can find for you.

[Dee]

I was just giving you a bad time about the "dirty mind" comment!

But, yep, that's what I figure - I might as well have fun! I do have an academic interest in folklore, generally, which includes jokes. When I teach our folklore class, I often use jokes as examples - I ask the students to collect (or sometimes just think about) jokes from classmates. Often, I find that college student jokes revolve around sex. Kids my son's age love jokes that involve stuff like peeing and pooping. The idea is that jokes are often used to talk about things that are sorta improper to discuss openly, or about something that is unfamiliar to the teller. One article I like to use was by a folklorist named Alan Dundes (taking a Freudian approach to jokes and terminology) who wrote about the homoeroticism in American football. I'll have to look over the article again for specific details. What I remember is that Dundes discusses how football players smack each other on the butt; how one player leans over to hike (?? can you tell? I don't watch football!!) the ball to the quarterback, he presents his butt; and how some of the terminology like "endzone", etc., could be construed as homoerotic. That's my take on the boob jokes . . . it illuminates how our society thinks about breasts. For one, breasts are highly sexualized in our society, so there is an emphasis on size. Our society is a very youth-oriented society, so there are a lot of jokes about sagging breasts.

I don't condone racist jokes, but I do pay some scholarly attention to them to see when they are told. In my experience, when they are told, they rely on stereotypical aspects of that group of people. I find that racist jokes are sometimes told by people who are unfamiliar with that group of people - they're told in ignorance, in other words. Sometimes the jokes reflect power diffentials between one group and another.

Okay. I think I need to get off my professor platform. Sorry about that!

[jeanne]

Hey--no apologies! This is fascinating.

[debutaunt]

I get embarrassed when I forget the word for things I know that I should or used to know. Usually it's something small like valet or notebook or stamp. i also can't remember movie stars like I used to - I was a crazy movie fiend and knew all the names.

It's either turning 40, chemo brain, or residual effects of the encephalitis I had last May. Regardless, I have to kind of stop to pause and it makes me feel strange.

[Sara]

I remember being a teenager and a twenty-something and being embarrassed to leave the house with so much as a single zit.

I am 45 years old now. At 5'7" tall and about 182 lbs. of not exactly pure muscle, I am strong and I am even occasionally brave, but I can be reduced to a yelling, screaming, crying, abjectly hysterical mass of writhing flesh by the mere sight of a ½"-long insulin needle. (They had to give me insulin when I was on decadron because it messed with my blood sugar.) The fact that this all goes back deep into my childhood, into issues of abuse and betrayal I can't even begin to describe in this format, not to mention that I have tiny, deep-set veins that are almost impossible to find in one try or the fact that once one of them is actually found and punctured it usually hurts more than getting punched in the face (and yes, I have been punched in the face and am not exaggerating), not to mention the fact that I have a kick-ass therapist just for my needle-phobia, which condition could actually become life-threatening if I let it as I have been known to just get up and leave without blood tests or other necessary procedures just because I'd had enough (and maybe they hadn't even started yet) -- all of that notwithstanding, this completely mortifies me. Part of why is because I was shamed and beaten for crying when I got shots when I was a child. Part of it is also that I'm 45 years old, strong, and even occasionally brave, and really feel I should be over this by now. And then there's the fact that it unnecessarily punishes people who are trying to help me as well as their other patients sitting in the waiting room and having to listen to this while they wait for their own good times to start.

And if I think about it, I still don't like leaving the house with so much as a single zit, but of course nowadays I do it all the time without thinking about it all.

Oh, and BTW, I have never met an anthropologist who didn't have a dirty mind regardless of his or her area of study.

[Dee]

Sara, I think you're talking about archaeologists! Not cultural anthropologists! Archaeologists have their minds in the dirt - it's what they do. They often dig up other people's garbage. I am NOT that kind of anthropologist! : ) LOL

Sara, I'm with you on the needle phobia. I try to do some deep breathing and get my mind on something else. Lately, I've found that telling jokes (yes, those same boob jokes) while getting sticked really helps. My veins are scarred from chemo five years ago, so it is hard for them to find a vein.