Failure, Shame and Returning to Joy on the field

In my global life, I walk around with a heightened sense for and fear of failure. It seems to me (but it might not be true!) that before I moved abroad, I failed less, but I also feared failure less. My role was more defined, my tasks more clear, and my results affected others less. I understood cultural norms, spoke the language, and felt like I belonged. Because I had this sense of belonging, it was easier for me to find my identity in the things that mattered: my faith, my role as wife and mother, and the security I enjoyed in my community, especially among my friends. Maybe I made the same mistakes (minus the language issues), but I felt more free to make mistakes because I knew I was among people who loved me in spite of my failures.

Then I moved abroad: I left my people, I lost my sense of belonging, and now it is much harder to return to joy from negative emotions like shame.

In Spanish, “un bicho raro” is “a rare bug,” someone who stands out from the crowd for being different. We’re always going to be rare bugs because of our faith, our work, and our passport culture. Being a foreigner, and in my case a “religious worker,” put a spotlight on me in public ways that I have learned to live with and even enjoy. I don’t mind being the American, the English speaker, the one whose kids go to an international school, keep a different schedule, finish their food too fast and are extraordinarily loud. This is part of the deal! We fit in too: we all speak the language better each day, people understand the comfort our kids experience at their international school and don’t question our decision, we enjoy the food, the way of life, and the sobremesa (sitting around the table after a meal) with local friends. I tell my kids that its ok to be a rare bug, and our host culture affirms that, while still watching curiously. 

But the spotlight shines brightly in personal ways too, and I struggle not to internalize my failures as part of my identity as a global worker. In terms of personality, this is natural for me, (I’m an enneagram 4, and INFJ, if that’s not obvious to those of you in the know), but I had a support system in the States to set me right and help me gain perspective. I could turn to people who were glad to be with me, share my negative emotions in my heart language, be understood, forgiven and affirmed. 

Today my husband got a phone call from one of our expat friends. He and his wife, my dear friend, were waiting for us at the coffee shop near their flat, where we had agreed to meet that morning for breakfast. 

The problem was, I had forgotten our meeting and I was still in my pajamas, indulging in my book. 

Wow. 

Lazy, indulgent, forgetful, stupid, unkind, inconsiderate… these are the words swirling around in my head. We already rescheduled this coffee date for valid reasons like a sick child and mundane reasons like remembering we have to go pick up residency cards on Friday, but today was perfect. 

You know I had a hole in my schedule because I was still in my pajamas, reading my novel.

And I forgot about our meeting. 

While my husband and I have our own individual responsibilities, social engagements are part of our job here; and they’re my favorite part of the job and where I feel my gifting lies, so I take responsibility for remembering them. I enjoy teaching preschoolers, tutoring in English, and participating in our church’s activities, but my heart soars when a friend sits across the table from me, sharing her heart, letting me know her better.

So when I failed to show up for just such a meaningful opportunity with our friends, it hit me hard. If this is the part of my job that makes me feel valuable, useful, and significant, and I can’t even remember to do it (much less do it well), do I even have meaning? What am I doing here? 

An utter sobfest ensued as I jumped off the couch to take a shower and get ready for the day, though for me the day’s purpose had already been lost. Revoked. I took deep breaths to try to calm down, and then released in shudders as I experienced the disappointment with myself, over and over again while I relived how I had let down my friends and myself. Deep breath in lament, shuddery release of despair. Wail and repeat. 

My conclusion? I am a letdown. A failure. A bad friend. The very worst global worker ever. Barely even an adult. Who would be caught reading a novel in their pajamas at 9:30 in the morning? When I picked up my book, I actually justified myself because I had already done my morning devotion. This is bad theology! Now I am a bad Christian too.

My shame this morning took on a life of its own as I evaluated all the ways my absent-mindedness has caused problems, all the ways that insecurities I have as an expat seep into my identity and disqualify me for service here. As my shame grew, I just wanted to get away. The desire to hide was visceral: I entertained a thought about climbing into my closet to cry and berate myself. 

The desire to hide is a natural response to shame, but what we need is reassurance and connection with others, so that we can begin to believe the truth about ourselves: “although I did a bad thing, I am not a bad person.”  

Fortunately, it is like me to apologize, and I was able to reach my friend over the phone. Apologizing went a long way to helping me feel better, to putting an end to the negative self-talk, and remembering who I really am. Apologizing can be a spiritual exercise, and if you know your friend’s “apology language,” even better. My own is to express regret for how I hurt the other person. I know my absent-mindedness caused a problem this morning, and I regret wasting their time and making them feel forgotten. I offered no excuse, only sorrow and embarrassment over my actions. Of course, my friend forgave me and told me not to worry about it. I am lucky to have such a good friend who accepted me in my weakness.

Now that the event is over, I must set myself to the task of returning to joy and rebuilding my self-esteem. This is hard, knowing that I will fail again and the global worker spotlight will emphasize those flaws about which I feel most insecure. But I’m not defined by my flaws or my mistakes. I belong. I must preach my own message to myself: there is room for me at the table too.

Global worker, negative emotions might be more common or more intense on the field. Please remember, these feelings aren’t bad! They’re just tools, gifts even, to help us set a new course. 

Remember, shame can be healthy. If you forget an outing with a friend, a healthy dose of shame will lead to a genuine apology and reconciliation, and reconciliation brings joy and belonging, an experience much needed for the expat.

I want to thank my friend Lisa Hamel for her simple presentation of the Life Model Works and Thrive resources on her incredible website, yourbrainonjoy.org.