Shame and the Rhinoroo

I sat in the back of the room, covering the picture I’d drawn, silently praying that I would not be asked to share it with the larger group.

We’d been assigned the task of combining two animals into one new animal.  The two animals I’d been given were a rhinoceros and a kangaroo, so, naturally I drew the Rhinoroo. (Think rhino with three pockets on each side in which she carries her baby rhinoroos.) Then we had to tell the hardest thing our animal ever had to do.

I came up with two stories. One had me anxiously covering my picture, trying to avoid being called on to share. The other made me feel brave and clever.

I went with that one. The hardest thing the Rhinoroo ever had to do was carry all those babies around in her pouches. I shared this answer. I got a mild laugh of appreciation for my clever creation, and I showed that I understood the importance of sacrificial parenting. It was a satisfying answer. I liked the way it made me look.

But it wasn’t my real answer. 

The next week I led the workshop. I stood up in front of the entire group and showed my picture for the second time and confessed. The hardest thing the Rhinoroo ever had to do was dealing with the stretched out pocket skin after the babies moved out.

The participants laughed heartily and a few people even shouted out, “Amen!” “I hear ya!”

I’d thought long and hard about drawing attention to my saggy belly and was a little surprised by the response. Sharing my vulnerable story actually created acceptance, not just for me, but for others in the room. Suddenly we were all in the same boat.

I imagined people would suddenly gawk at my belly, but instead they thought of their own inadequacies. We were no longer alone. It was okay to have post-kid skin or whatever keeps us from belonging, from being enough.

That first day, as I sat in the back of the room covering the Rhinoroo, I felt alone.  Being an imperfect human was separating me from everyone else in the room. Their cheers were shocking because it was the first time it had even occurred to me that everyone else might also feel inadequately human.

Strange to find shared humanity, acceptance and community in the love child of a rhinoceros and a kangaroo.