ILLUSTRATION BY PERRY ROWEY (2019)

When I think about the last time I truly embarrassed myself, I want to point to something silly, like a few weeks ago when I went into a small, crowded coffee shop, sat down in a broken chair, and experienced the first “Honest-to-God, Ass-Over-Teakettle” fall I’ve had in probably my entire young adult life. On a superficial level, that’s embarrassing, sure. But it was easy to laugh off. Some strangers kindly offered napkins, and I got myself up and went on with my day. Was it humbling? Yes. But it wasn’t exactly embarrassing. That’s in question.

True embarrassment comes with sincerity, vulnerability. True embarrassment keeps you awake at night. And unfortunately, in a ridiculously human way, the risk of embarrassment goes hand in hand with just about everything that makes life worth living.

All of the best things in life require a degree of embarrassment or at least the possibility of it. Dancing, singing, creating art, cooking food, having sex, holding hands—there’s risk in it all. You might burn dinner or sing off-key, or even crack your voice. No act of self-expression or love is exempt from this danger. Embarrassment is scary because rejection is scary, failure is scary, judgment is scary, never seeing it coming is scary and we’ve learned to associate all of these experiences with something bad. Because of this, we often end up pretending not to care to avoid embarrassment: What you don’t care about can’t hurt you, right?

In a way, that’s true. The only way to live a life free from embarrassment is to simply not care about what you do or how others perceive it, to keep your guard up and play your cards close to your chest. But honestly, that life sounds bleak. Being cool and indifferent, unaffected by the world, is a dreary existence—like living next to a river but never swimming in it. Of course, not all embarrassment is worth it. Some double texts get left on read, and sometimes you wave at someone in a crowd who doesn’t end up seeing you. But in many ways, these are the only embarrassments that truly matter. These moments of sincerity, though unrequited, show us something beautiful about ourselves. Heat blooms in our cheeks, and our stomach twists in knots because we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to be honest, to risk getting hurt just a little.

I’m trying to live my life more honestly, which means I’m preparing to embarrass myself a lot more. I’m going to try dancing more and getting in the way a bit more; I’m going to send more cringe-worthy texts and be more sincere when I talk to my loved ones and strangers alike. I’m going to create more art and share it with others. I’m going to be fully earnest and vulnerable. I’m going to continue running this literary-magazine-publication-press writer hood for the sake of writing. As a result, I’ll probably experience more rejection and constantly worry that I’ve overshared, that I’ve been too much. And that’s okay. I don’t think life has to always be a strategy game. There’s no prize at the end for who cared the least. You have nothing to lose by showing your true self, and everything to gain from being sincere.

Isn’t it thrilling to try hard and fail anyway, to care so much and get hurt regardless, to reach out and be ignored? Embarrassment is inevitable. Embarrassment is fun. Wearing strange outfits, doing karaoke, and falling in love is fun, and none of these things come free. And if embarrassment is the price we pay to live a full, sincere, and beautiful life, then so be it. ✦