Through the Fire: How Embarrassment Shapes Us | #MyFridayStory No. 354

I’m sure we’ve all been caught doing something we’re not proud of. That feeling—the hollow pit in your stomach that heats your face bright red—can be worse than any punishment. The raw embarrassment of being “found out” makes us want to escape, disappear, explain, or make excuses. But there’s no comfort in running. The truth is, facing it head-on often reveals the flaws in our character that most need attention.

In moments like these, courage isn’t just bravery; it’s resilience in the face of exposed weakness. Instead of retreating or justifying, we learn to stand in the discomfort, to accept the consequences, and in doing so, we begin to build something sturdier. In every embarrassing incident, big or small, we are handed the chance to grow.

I think back to a time in my childhood when I was given that chance, though I certainly didn’t see it that way then. When television first came to South Africa in 1976, my folks waited a few months before buying a set. Back then, it wasn’t strange to be invited to someone’s house to watch television. We lived opposite a large sports ground about the size of a residential block. My friend’s family lived on the other side of the grounds—almost directly across from our house. They had a TV, and I had a standing invitation to come watch whenever my friend was home. Each evening, I’d crawl through a hole in the fence, run across the rugby field, and slip through another gap outside his house.

I loved an Afrikaans comedy series called Willem, with Tobie Cronjé. On the night it was screening again, I called my friend on their home landline (no cell phones back then) to ask if I could come over. His father answered and said my friend wasn’t home. I was disappointed—almost upset that he wasn’t there. I desperately wanted to see the show. After waiting a few minutes, I called again. His father answered, saying he was still not home. A few minutes later, I tried once more as the show was about to start, and it looked like I would miss it. When his father said he wasn’t home for the third time, I snapped, “Fine!” and slammed the phone down.

A few days later, I was invited to watch TV again and had completely forgotten about my rude behaviour on the phone. I was sitting with the whole family watching TV, all of us with dinner trays on our laps, when the father spoke.

“Fransie, my boy, you’re allowed to come to watch television anytime we’re home. But the way you spoke to me on the phone is never to happen again. You were rude and acted like a brat! I won’t stand for it, do you understand?”

I didn’t know where to look. I wanted to dive under the couch and hide. My face turned bright red, and my mouth went dry. Frozen in the tension of the moment, I could barely manage an apology, feeling ill to my stomach for what I’d done.

Those moments are hardly pleasant, but they shape us. They teach us the grit to hold our heads up in the face of judgment, to avoid making excuses, and to live with whatever consequences we’ve brought upon ourselves. It’s a strange kind of strength to stand in the middle of an awkward silence or an angry stare, feeling utterly exposed but resisting the urge to squirm or explain. And, perhaps most humbling, to know we are at the mercy of the person who caught us out, hoping for forgiveness while realising we haven’t earned it.

The path through isn’t easy, but it’s the only one that keeps us from digging the hole deeper. And as we bear the weight of our choices, we earn something greater—dignity. Each time we own up, we add a layer to our character, a layer of humility and resilience that wasn’t there before.

These experiences stay with us, marking our journey, and reminding us that we’ve been through worse and somehow come out stronger. And though other people may forget the incident, we don’t. The sting fades, but the lesson stays. And maybe that’s the point.

Have a great weekend and remember to be generous! 😄

As always, thanks for reading. 🙏

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