Writer-Wednesday-007-Page-5

IMG_4761

Today’s Writer Wednesday’s post is about our most embarrassing moments. My problem is there are so many, it’s hard to choose. I’m not coordinated so there are instances of me falling, tripping, and dropping things at the worst times. I’ve spilled drinks on other people (like at the GH/Rita reception last year in NYC), broken jars in grocery stores that required Hazmat Aisle 9 clean up crews, and tripped getting out of a limo in a long gown (I fell on my face!).

So when this topic was chosen, I thought this would be easy.

I have a lifetime’s worth of ridiculous moments to pull from that I’d rather forget. Even if I couldn’t remember, I knew my kids and DH and even the dog would help me out.

They’re good that way.

IMG_4518

IMG_4530

IMG_4526

IMG_4532

But as I sat down to write, I thought about what it meant to be embarrassed. Or humiliated. Or shamed.

And I realized while I have a lot of ridiculously funny (now!) embarrassment stories, I have some memories that still bleed. There’s a black side to being embarrassed. And while the silly stories are the ones I re-tell, often enhanced with hyperboles, there are others that make me curl up in a blanket of humiliation and remorse.

Like the time I sent a not-so-nice email to a loop instead of a friend.

Or when I got caught in high school gossiping about another girl (it did not end well).

Guilt defines those moments.

But I’m a grown-up and try to stamp down my pride and take responsibility for my actions.

Guilt, mea culpas, and I are old friends.

IMG_4458

 

IMG_4369

 

IMG_4539

If embarrassment is the lighter side of the house, and humiliation is the darker side, they both cover the dank basement of undeserved shame. While embarrassment and humiliation are always completely my fault, the third is often undeserved. Or, if I’m not completely inculpable, the level of censure far outweighs the crime.

Undeserved shame and degradation cause wounds that take a long time to heal. They can’t be turned into cocktail hour hilarity and often stay deep inside where they fester and burn.

And that’s the short story I’d like to share. The day I was asked to leave a Warehouse Store. The day I was shamed.

IMG_3872

 

IMG_2777

 

IMG_3877

Many of us have been to those big Costco-type stores. Huge warehouses filled with enormous tubs of baking powder and nutmeg. Concrete floors, fluorescent lights, and free food samples. And everyone walks around ignoring the fact the entire place smells like feet.

One day, when my twins were newborns, my husband had to go on a business trip. I was within the six week postpartum driving restriction so I made sure I had everything in the house I’d need for a week. But then my son got sick. It turns out he required a special formula to keep his stomach settled and the only place to get it was at the nearby Warehouse Store (this is before Amazon Prime!).

Despite the fact I shouldn’t have been driving and was sleep deprived, I packed us up in the car with the double stroller and a fully loaded baby bag that weighed more than the two babies combined. All went well on the trip and I got everyone settled in the stroller and headed into the store.

IMG_4368

 

IMG_4365

 

IMG_2693

I don’t know what happened next–maybe it was the fluorescent lights or the loud rock music blaring–but the kids started to fuss. A rush of adrenaline hit my system like a jolt of three espressos, and I picked up the pace.

I reached the pharmacy and asked for what I needed only to hear that I had to have a prescription, a different insurance, a few hundred dollars — blah, blah, blah. I asked for a manager, but she was at lunch. As I was dealing with this, my kids got crankier and crankier.

Then they started to cry. And newborns have a very distinct (re: annoying) cry. Then my son started to gag because his stomach was upset. The employees gave me evil stares, other patrons shook their heads and walked away.

IMG_3496

 

IMG_4447

 

IMG_4459

Meanwhile, I was waiting for the manager so I could get the prescription and leave. My kids were screaming and my heart was cracking. I still remember how my legs and arms shook. I prayed I wouldn’t have a panic attack.

Finally the manager showed up without my prescription. She told me, in front of six or so employees and a ton of customers, that since I couldn’t control my kids (newborns!) that I wouldn’t be served. Then a security guard appeared. The manager and the guard threw me out without my medicine.

When we got outside, they both berated me in front of other customers coming in and told me that I was a horrible mother and never to come in again. They even took my membership card. I was banned.

It was one of the most awful experiences of my life. And while I get angry now, at the time I was too exhausted and stressed to fight back. They attacked me while I was vulnerable.

IMG_4204

 

IMG_4540

After they left, I sat on the curb. My legs hurt because they’d been holding up my trembling body. A massive headache hovered, and I was too exhausted to move. The kids were still screaming and I could barely see through the tears. That’s when I heard a voice.

An older woman knelt in front of me and asked me what was wrong. In between sobs, I told her the story. She stood and told me to stay where I was and not to worry. She peeked into the double stroller and I have no idea what she said, but the kids calmed down, their cries turning to light whimpers. Then she went inside.

IMG_3826

 

IMG_4487

A few minutes later she returned with my formula. Apparently, it wasn’t a prescription product but they kept it behind the pharmacy counter because it was so expensive. When I tried to pay her for it, she refused. She walked me to my car and helped me buckle the kids into their carseats (before carseats popped out and clicked into strollers) and put the stroller in the trunk. When I turned around to thank her again, determined to pay her back, she’d disappeared.

Poof! Just like that she was gone. I drove around the parking lot looking for her, but I never found her. To this day I have no idea who she was, but the kids are convinced she was an angel.

IMG_4125

 

Yesterday, when I started this blog, I asked (again!) my now sixteen-year old twins why they thought she was an angel.

They just shook their shoulders in unison and said, “Because when we were in the stroller, she told us so.”

I’d heard this answer below, many times, but it’s taken me years to believe it. At least I know someone is watching out for us when the embarrassment is undeserved.

While I wish that incident had never happened, in some ways it’s been a blessing. It reminded me that in spite of the “meanies” in the world, there are those who care. There are people who will laugh with you, not at you. And there are people who will stand up for you when you are unable. And sometimes you’ll be the one standing for others.

In the meantime, I probably shouldn’t be allowed to grocery shop, step out of limos, or wear high heels.

Now I have to break that to my family.

IMG_4760

Do you have any embarrassing moments you’d like to share? I’d love to know I’m not alone.

Thank your for spending the day with us. Below is a link of my Golden Heart sisters who are participating in today’s blog party. Hope to see you next month!

Contemporary romance writers Tamra Baumann – Priscilla Oliveras – Shelly Alexander |Romantic suspense writers Carol Post  | Historical writers Natalie Meg Evans

All photographs courtesy of Sharon Wray.

Similar Posts

15 Comments

  1. Wow, Sharon, what an awesome story! It brought me to tears. It’s amazing that store staff would treat a customer like that, or expect anyone to be able to control a couple of newborns! I totally believe your “angel” that day could have been a real angel. The Bible talks about “entertaining angels unawares,” and I’ve heard several stories about God sending help like this when we need it most.

    1. I agree, Carol. It’s amazing how this story still affects me after all these years. It still makes me sad but then I remember my angel and I instantly feel better. And I have a feeling she’s not the only angel I’ve met. 🙂

  2. What an awful thing to endure! I think all Mom’s have had public moments that make us feel as though everyone is figuring motherhood out better than we are, but the treatment you received is beyond the pale!

    1. Thanks, Sara. Whenever I see a struggling young mother, I always go out of my way to help her. I still remember how hard it is to be out and about in the world with tiny people. It’s not much easier than dealing with teenagers, but at least I can walk away from them now and pretend they’re not mine. LOL!

  3. What a beautiful story, Sharon! I’m glad there was an angel for you that day.
    If I was to have a title, it would be queen of awkward. Like you, I trip and spill things. I often tell people that my sisters were sent to dance lessons, but I wasn’t because it was obvious that I’d never achieve graceful 🙂

    My funniest red-faced moment came at a horse show I was judging. Standing in the middle of the arena wearing a microphone attached to the PA system, the organizer told me to turn off the mike, then asked me if I needed a break between classes and when I said not yet, he told me to just let him know when I needed to whiz (his word), and he’d hold up the next class.

    Yep, eventually the moment came, I flicked the button to turn off the mike, but apparently it didn’t work, so my words blasted out from all the speakers, “Bob, I need a whiz break at the end of this class.”

    I must say, it was the first time in my life I’d made the world around me laugh, and even though it was embarrassing, it was kind of cool too!

    1. What a hilarious story! I can’t imagine how you went back up on stage after your break! That beats all of my stories hands down. 🙂

  4. I suspect you met my Rogue Angel. *wink*

    There was no excuse for treating you and your kids that way. I’m sorry you had to endure that!

    I can remember times when my kids were young and sick in public that made me want to crawl under a rock too. My daughter used to barf at what we would consider everyday smells. Hotdogs, for example. I remember when we were at her brother’s boy scout event, running for a bathroom and having to stop and stick her head into a twenty gallon trashcan in front of the whole auditorium because I knew we wouldn’t make it to the ladies room in time. :0) (It’s funny now. Then, not so much!)

    Because of my daughter, I still have a habit of carrying a folded ziplock bag in my purse. I have since shared them with a few harried (and extremely grateful) young mothers.LOL

    1. I loved your rogue angel story, Tammy! I had a projectile vomiter too and always carried bags and wipes and extra clothes for all of use because you never knew when something would happen. But one thing for sure — it always happened in public! Thank you for sharing. 🙂

  5. What a story! I’m inclined to believe the twins–she must have made quite an impression on them, too.

    1. I agree, Kay. Because they were weeks old and they still talk about it. 🙂

  6. Oh my gosh, Sharon, it’s horrible how terribly that store manager and the employees treated you! I can’t even imagine being in that situation. And yet, that angel that appeared to help you… I believe it!

    It’s a blessing that she was there to help you and your babies. That comes from your faith and the beautiful person you are inside.

    Thanks for taking this serious look at embarrassment. You’re right, there’s the funny stuff and the humiliating stuff. We can learn from both.

    But the shaming from others? Well, there’s just no excuse for that.

    He who casts the first stone… none of us is perfect. It’s something we all need to remember and understand.

    1. Thank you, Priscilla. As usual, I didn’t really follow the WW directions (LOL) but this is the blog story that came to me. I just read your sandal story and loved it. I laughed so hard I almost spilled my coffee! 🙂

  7. So incredibly beautiful, Sharon. You always touch me so deeply! XO

Comments are closed.