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Brigid O’Dea: What would we do if we didn’t fear embarrassment?

An intuitive enforcer of restraint holds us back from all sorts of joys and opportunities

I often wonder what society would look like if we didn’t fear embarrassment.

I imagine we’d laugh more. And we’d probably love more. And maybe we’d fight a little less.

I’m convinced we’d wear raincoats and wellies. Hats and fleeces, and a thick mask of sun cream.

We’d attend the doctor more. Get bowel screenings, and funny lumps looked at.

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We’d probably get sick less.

And feel less confused. We’d ask more questions and be the wiser for it.

Maybe, I’d still wear my mask in public.

As a country, embarrassment looms heavy over our collective psyche. In secondary school, the most common insult thrown across the school yard was “scarlet for you” or “scarlet for your ma for having you”.

According to the I’m Grand Mam podcast, “puce” is the new colour of embarrassment. Puce for your ma for producing you.

Nowadays, the big insult is to have notions. Notions are basically having ideas about yourself or enacting behaviours considered to be above your station. Notions include: promoting yourself on social media; eating kimchi for lunch; wearing a big hat.

In short, notions demand that that little bit of courage and self-love you are experiencing right now should be considered an embarrassment. Decisions made from a place of embarrassment are rarely ones you look back on with pride or vindication.

A number of years ago, my dad, caught in a whirlpool while on a beginner’s surfing lesson, chose to suffer in silence rather than to call for help. I mean drowning, it’s embarrassing, isn’t it? Better not to cause a scene.

Luckily the instructor cottoned on to the imminent danger, before my dad was washed under.

My brother texted me to relay the story;

“Dead” I replied with a little laughing face and skull emoji.

When I was in primary school, I thought it was embarrassing to eat raisins. I thought yogurts were embarrassing and a toothpaste stain on your uniform was veritably uncool. I thought it was embarrassing that my mom’s signature in my homework journal was shaky because she was taking steroids for illness. I thought it was embarrassing to have short hair. I thought getting a spelling wrong was embarrassing, as was wearing Doc Marten boots to Hip Hop dance class.

When I started secondary school, I thought bumps in my ponytail were embarrassing. I thought it was embarrassing when I missed patches of hair on my legs when I was shaving. I thought sandals were embarrassing and I thought feet were embarrassing. I thought it was embarrassing to kiss someone if you had a cold or had just eaten crisps. I thought having a chronic illness was embarrassing and pain was embarrassing. I thought it was embarrassing when my dad served my friend an avocado as a starter to tuna pasta.

In my 20s, I thought it was embarrassing when you could see your socks between your trouser leg and shoe. I thought it was embarrassing to wear a coat or be seen in any form of rainwear. I thought it was embarrassing to tell someone you loved them or to tell someone that you didn’t want to kiss them. I thought it was embarrassing that I had to leave nights out early due to ill-health. I thought it was embarrassing to speak Irish.

In my 30s, I still think raisins are embarrassing and yogurts too, and I probably still turn red when I tell someone I love them. But I feel the rouge and do it anyway.

Embarrassment is a bit of a lame excuse, isn’t it, for actioning or withholding certain behaviour; for putting ourselves at risk, or cutting off potential opportunities or connections?

I wonder how many times I have ended up with a cold because I was too embarrassed to wear a rain coat in the rain? Or insulated mittens in the snow? How many migraine attacks could have been aborted, if I was fearless enough to interrupt conversation to ask for a seat or a snack or a 10-minute break?

I wonder, as a country, if we could have managed the early stages of Covid-19 differently, if we didn’t find wearing a mask or asking others to use hand sanitiser all a little bit cringe. Would we pronounce foreign and indigenous names and words more accurately if we didn’t cringe at pronouncing a word in a tone slightly different to that to which we are habituated?

The fact of the matter is that embarrassment is fleeting. Miley Cyrus now wears Doc Martens. Avocados became cool, took over the internet and every local brunch spot, and are embarrassing once more. If decent rainwear was once embarrassing, these days it’s hot.