Embarrassment at its wettest

 I was discussing social anxiety with a friend recently, and she asked me what childhood event I think might have sparked my social anxiety. 

One specific event came to mind - one that I have not, until recently, been so open to share.  I do not believe this was the first event that had some role in the development of my social anxiety, but I know it played a drastic role.  And so we begin, the story about my most embarrassing moment...

I started cheerleading in the 1st grade.  In the 3rd grade, I joined competition cheer.  For a football sidelines little league squad, we were pretty good, and my first year, we won State and made it to the Regionals!  That being said, the cheer season took us all the way through the winter, and since we weren't drinking as much water in the cold, we had a couple issues with girls passing out at practice.  Our coach had us all start drinking a whole bottle of Gatorade before practice. 

Now, for a normal kid, that's fine.  But my bladder had never been normal (and yes, you know where this is going, but sit tight because there's more).  I had always had issues with needing more frequent trips to the restroom.  I wet the bed until I was about 7 because I couldn't hold it through the night, and I just couldn't wake myself up.  I think that part of my social anxiety had already started developing years before this major incident because of my bladder issues.  I remembered the response I would get when I had to use the restroom too many times.  When I asked to go, I was met with groaning or exacerbation - "How? You just went!"  Therefore, I had multiple accidents as a kid solely because I was afraid to ask.

Back to the story at hand...

I did my due diligence and drank my Gatorade.  I went to the restroom before leaving for the YMCA where we were having practice that day.  It was the newer YMCA that was farther out in the County than the one I usually went to for swimming or my mom's aerobics class.  I used the restroom when we arrived at the Y, and I used it again when we were given a chance at the beginning of practice; but that was still not enough.

After warm ups, I asked to go again, and my coach said no.  She said I should have gone before practice, and when I said I did multiple times and I can't help that I need to again, I was told too bad.

Now, if you are familiar with competition cheer, you know that we always start routines by getting in our first formation and squatting down; one cheerleader remains standing, waits for everyone to get in their positions, and sticks her fist straight in the air to let the judges and DJ know the team is ready for the music to start.  In practice, we always began like that too.  That's right, y'all, squatting.  Pee position.

I marched in with the team, got in formation, and squatted and waited.  I remember the pressure building, the throbbing in my bladder, and I remember the sudden release right as the music started, as my bladder's contents went all over the place.  The music was blasting, and nobody had noticed yet.  My teammates were just marching along to the beat.  I ran to my coach, hot in the face and starting to cry, and started to say that I was sorry, that I couldn't help it, but she didn't notice or care; she angrily pointed to the door and said "Just GO!"  And so I ran to the bathroom before the music stopped, before anybody noticed the big yellow puddle in the floor.

I got to the bathroom and peed again (I know, unbelievable), then proceeded to try and squeeze as much urine out of my skirt and spankies as possible.  I was hot and shaky and absolutely mortified.  "Just act normal, like nothing happened." 

I walked back to the gym.  Everyone was standing along the sidelines while a crewmember of the YMCA maintenance team wiped down the floor.  Nobody looked at me.  Nobody said a word.  I just walked in and found a place along the wall and waited to resume practice.  

I felt like I was watching this unwind from the outside.  I was watching my face flush bright red in embarrassment and shame.  I was watching as I isolated myself from the squad, who willingly kept their distance.  I was watching it happen, but I couldn't help.  My throat and eyes burned with tears that I kept swallowing down.  

Still, no word about it was muttered, and we continued on with practice.  We were nearing our competition, so I remember near the end, parents showed up early for an after practice parent meeting and uniform check.  I crossed my fingers, thanked the Lord my skirt had dried, and prayed my coach wouldn't smell pee on me when she checked my skirt size.  Still, no word about it was muttered.

Before leaving, I remember telling my mom I had to go to the restroom again, and she responded with, "Again?...Never mind...".  I held my breath for a moment before running to the restroom.  She knows.  But she never said anything about it again.

It sat there inside me like a heavy weight, a secret I held.  I knew everyone knew.  I felt the slight avoidance and the pity.  I felt the distance between myself and my peers.  I could pick up on those social cues pretty easily; I just pretended I couldn't.  

I only heard about it once, a year or two later.  My brother was being rude and making fun of me, and he thought it would be great to tell me that his football mates love to laugh about the time I peed myself at cheer practice.  You see, most of my teammates had brothers on the football teams.  I guess it shouldn't have surprised me that word got around; I think I was more taken aback that my brother decided to allow his little sister to be the topic of mockery rather than standing up for me.  I spat back at him, "I don't know what you're talking about" and that was the end of that.  I continued on the competition squad for 3 more years.  The squad continued to act as though it had never happened, and the awkward isolation bubble eventually popped.

But that moment has sat with me forever.  I was always a bit quirky and different.  Adding that embarrassing moment was just icing on the cake.  I wanted to fit in, to be cool and confident, but I just couldn't help it.  My personality isn't like everyone else's.  I stand out, and I have a big presence, even when I don't try.  I've spent a majority of my life trying to shrink and hide.  I am afraid of embarrassing myself in the grocery store, in parking lots, at church, at work, on social media, here on this blog.  Crowds of more than 6-8 stress me out, and I always feel like I'm about the trip in front of everyone; or worse, pee in front of everyone.  And I'll be watching from the outside, unable to stop it from happening and unable to provide comfort to myself, because nobody provided comfort to me in that traumatic moment in the 3rd grade.  

And that, friends, is one of the most pivotal moments of my childhood.  

Pictured: Me with Coach Jessie after a competition the following year, January/February 2002.