Summary

The narrative explores the internal struggle of McKella Johnson, who grapples with her personified "Shame Baby," a manifestation of her insecurities, amidst a group affirmation session.

Abstract

In a poignant and introspective narrative titled "My Negative is called Shame," the protagonist, McKella Johnson, attends a group affirmation session where participants confront their personal demons, referred to as "Negatives." McKella's Negative takes the form of a "Shame Baby," a symbol of her inner turmoil and self-doubt. Despite her efforts to affirm her bravery, kindness, and self-sufficiency, McKella's Shame Baby persistently tugs at her, reflecting a broken and fragmented image of her past self. The story highlights the paradox of these sessions, which are meant to foster self-acceptance yet often intensify the presence of Negatives. McKella observes that the size and ferocity of these Negatives correlate with the individual's self-perception, with some Negatives growing monstrously large due to neglect. The narrative concludes with McKella's Shame Baby transforming into a formidable beast after an encounter with another participant, leaving McKella engulfed in her own shame.

Opinions

The author suggests that self-affirmation sessions, while intended to promote self-love and acceptance, can inadvertently amplify personal insecurities.
The story implies that Negatives, or personal insecurities, require nurturing and attention to prevent them from growing out of control, much like caring for a baby.
There is a sense of irony in the fact that participants in the affirmation session avoid interacting with the

My Negative is called Shame

A very short story about humans and their monsters.

I am brave: I carry my courage on my shoulders — it pulls them back and makes me look taller than I am.

I am kind: my eyes twinkle with sympathetic shades of generosity.

I am enough: I don’t need anybody to complete me and…

What? I turn, slightly annoyed, and look down. Shame Baby is tugging at my skirt. What is it? I am listening to my affirmations, and I need you to keep quiet, dearest.

Her eyes fill with tears, Shame Baby hates being told off. She’s just a baby, not a real person, just a littlun in need of nurturing. I take a breath and I look at her again. She is not ugly, not scary, not monstruous. Her grey face is made up of puzzle pieces, old and new. Most of them show a younger version of myself in a broken-mirror kind of reflection: stronger, braver… Deep breaths.

I look around me, everybody is in the zone, eyes closed, arms stretched, palms reaching to grab the spiritual sun… everybody accompanied by another version of themselves. Smaller, in some cases, bigger, in most.

I am enough: I don’t need anybody to make me feel complete.

We all chant. We know the drill. These group chants make us feel stronger, more ready to brave it out in the world. That is hilarious because we very rarely interact with each other. We do interact, don’t get me wrong, just not with this zen, affirmative version of ourselves. Often, we interact with each other’s Negatives.

When the preacher urges us to embrace who we are, to forgive and love ourselves, the gentleman next to me, who is accompanied by a monumentally large monster, looks confused. His monster, Self-Hatred, is so great, that the man does not even dare look in his direction.

The thing with Negatives, is kind of the opposite, if you get my pun. While you grow anything positive about yourself, you develop a skill, you nurture love for this and that, you must do the same for the Negative to un-grow. What you don’t want is what this guy has, the enormous hate turnip with fiery eyes and a nasty beath.

Not that I get to speak, I had a lot of help, but what you want your Negative to be is a baby. And like with a baby, the more you nurture, love, and look after it, the better it un-grows and the less trouble it creates… if that makes sense.

These sessions are corporate requirements, nobody gets much out of them, but all employees must complete them twice a year. It’s a real freak-show if you ask me. Fortunately, nobody does. Nobody knows who I really am. I’m the secretary to a secretary and most people on my floor don’t even know my name. In their eyes, I’m nothing if not ordinary. But I am one of The Few who can SEE the Negatives.

My mistake… as I thought about it, Shame Baby took a good strong breath and grew by a couple of centimetres. Internal monologues, such slippery slopes, eh?

…and with this, my beloved, we end another magnificent session. What excellent energy, what luck to be surrounded by your peacefully transcendent auras. I hope to see you soon. Unharmed, fly high, fly free.

We all chant Unharmed, fly high, fly free and it’s a wrap!

It will take forever to leave this place and don’t even get me started on the queues for the underground. Even before we leave the hall, some of the Negatives have started to bash into each other, thump their chests and pull at their humans like rag dolls.

I grab Shame Baby in my arms and give it a little peck on the nose. She giggles and snuggles deeper into my embrace. Amongst humans with dragons, monsters, ghouls, you name it, I see another mother. A mother is a human with a Negative that is a baby, if you didn’t get that straight away. Can’t help but smile.

Finally outside, I decide to walk a few miles, in the hope that the crowds will disperse.

“Why did you smile? Nobody does these days…” the voice of the mother shyly pushes the air to reach me.

I turn and look at her again, look at her baby, so small, skin glowing with aromatic oils, and nod.

“I like your dress, very flattering” I say and continue walking. I feel her walking behind me. I hear her baby starting to whimper. Little baby Self-Doubt. Sweet. She shooshes the baby in her mind and clears her throat.

“I think I know you,” she says, voice layered with inflicted confidence.

“You don’t.”

“You are McKella Johnson, that’s who you are, you are one of The Few.”

I stop. I breathe. I hug Shame Baby tight, and I count. Inhale. Exhale. In… I try, but it’s too late. Swelling like a tsunami from the depth of by being, Shame Baby explodes in all its greatness. Loudness and venom, she is climbing onto this stranger, scratching at her face, snatching Self-Doubt and bashing her against the walls over and over and over again.

I stand powerless and I observe my dear baby turn into what it really is, a beast. I wait. When she is done with the unlucky lady, Shame is not a baby anymore, it’s a young lady, beautiful and fierce. She looks me up and down.

“Pathetic. Let’s go then.” I follow, covered by her shadow, covered in Shame.