Once upon there was a little girl. As a sixth grader, she had spent her short life learning and gathering truths through first-time experiences. She had accrued quite the library.

• The stove hurts to touch when it’s hot.
• If I drag my toes on my moving bike, they will get scuffed.
• Seatbelts taste like pennies.
• Snowballs gain momentum when rolling downhill.
• Cutting a massive chunk of hair on the back of the head is not visible when looking straight into a mirror, but it is to Mom

One day, while in her 6th-grade classroom, she was seated at the reading center. A table along the wall in one corner of the room, the area was set away from the classroom desks. There, students could listen to recordings of books the teacher had read. His narration was lively and eager, and all the students loved their chance to listen.

With excited anticipation, the girl placed the large, earmuff-like headphones around her ears and pressed play on the tape recorder. She was ready to escape into the world of this unique audio experience.

Mr. Stranges added music to part of his narration and at the beginning of this one, he played an uninterrupted portion of Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.”

As the track played, the girl began singing along with the lyrics joyfully. She remained in her own little world.

After a few minutes, she felt a tap on her shoulder and as she turned around, she could see the class laughing while facing her. She was puzzled.

She removed her earphones to engage with the classmate who tapped her on the shoulder. He said, “Jenn- we can all hear you singing.”

She. Was. Mortified. Another Universal truth discovered painfully.

Add it to the catalog, she thought: Earphones keep you from hearing the outside world, including the sounds coming from your mouth. But the world can hear everything loud and clear. *facepalm*

As an adult, I often sing while doing yard work with ears full of buds. I know I may be audible to others thanks to that fateful day in 6th grade, but the fantastic part of being in the decade of the 40s is that I no longer care if others hear. Embarrassment happens less and less because of that.

Embarrassment is so interesting if we think about it. We’re all terrified of being embarrassed when we’re young. Some people are terrified of it still as adults. But it’s a less likely human experience as we age. As I consider times in my recent years that I’ve felt it, I can recall very few times. But ten years ago, it would have been a much different count.

Let’s break down embarrassment.

What’s behind it? It’s just a fear of being seen. And judged.

On Sunday, I went to the driving range to hit golf balls for the first time in 14 years. Should I have been embarrassed? 🙂 All I could do was have fun. Mistakes and all. Because we all make them, don’t we?

Of all the human emotions, embarrassment may be a rare one, with a decrease in experiential potency as the years go on. There’s also a direct correlation with being unphased by the judgment of others as potential embarrassment declines.

When we witness our elders in their 80s and 90s, it’s obvious their consciousness often holds no concern for judgment. They aren’t capable of being embarrassed. It’s pretty beautiful.

Suppose we know that our eventual progression through life will result in a likely inability to feel embarrassment. What would happen if we just stopped allowing the fear of embarrassment to drive our decisions now? Might we reap the benefits earlier and have more opportunities to live fully? 

As Mark Manson says in his widely popular book, The Subtle Art Of Not Giving a F*ck

“Maturity is what happens when one learns to only give a fuck about what’s truly fuckworthy.”