Ain’t it a shame…

At a recent function, the topic of graduation came up. A person there asked me where I went to school. I replied, “I didn’t. I have a PhD from the school of hard knocks.”

They blinked and said, “You never went to college?”

I said, “College? I never finished high school.”

This person said, “You seem so smart and articulate. I never would have known you weren’t educated.”

I replied, “And I’m surprised you’ve made it this far through life without someone like me slapping you so hard that your WiFi disconnects.”

Okay, I didn’t actually say that. I just gave ‘em my best Mona Lisa smile and plotted how much laxative I’d need to slip into their drink to make their ride home interesting.

Years ago, that person’s comment would have hit like a sucker punch. It used to be a big source of shame.

Now it’s a badge of honor.

There were a lot of things I was embarrassed about in my youth. The hand-me-down boys’ clothes from my brothers I was forced to wear with sneakers held together with duct tape. The odd religious views of my mother. The lack of a father in my life. The beat-up POC I used to drive because I couldn’t afford a “nice” car. My insecurity in going to a fancy restaurant because I didn’t know how to dress or conduct myself.

The shame list was LONG.

And for too many years, I dragged that list around like a dead body in a duffel bag: heavy, smelly, and impossible to explain at airport security.

Here’s the thing about shame: it’s a perfectly useful emotion when it’s pointing at something you actually did wrong. Steal something? Feel shame. Lie to someone who trusted you? Feel shame. Leave a bad Yelp review under a fake name? Feel shame AND get a life. But shame about where you started? About circumstances you were born into and had zero control over? About making a bad decision or a mistake?

Why would you feel bad about THAT?

But here’s what I want you to hear, and I want you to REALLY hear it, not just agree and scroll past: your broken past is not a liability. It is a marketing asset. Every scar, every scrape, every “I can’t believe I survived that level of stupidity” moment is an affinity hook that connects you to clients who’ve been through hard things too.

Years ago, a fitness instructor at the gym I also taught at, carried around a life-size cutout of herself 100 pounds overweight. She propped it up for everyone to see in the front of the room before her class to convey that she KNOWS what it’s like to be addicted to food, ashamed of your body, and frustrated to tears that you struggle with your weight. She PACKED the room every class because people felt they could trust her and identify with her more than with someone like me, who was younger with working hormones that kept me lean and fit without much work.

Most of your clients (the small business owners who are worried about making payroll, who started their company with no investors and no safety net, and who’ve been burned by a vendor who didn’t show up) trust someone who’s been through it FAR more than they trust some polished corporate rep with a business degree and zero miles on him.

The bankruptcy you’re so ashamed of? That’s your “I know what it’s like to screw up and start over” story. The divorce you went through? That’s your “I know what it’s like to have someone you trust turn on you” story. The business failure? That’s your “I learned the hard lessons about hiring the right people, being frugal, and managing tighter” story. The poverty you had as a kid, no formal education, missing parents, and hard life? That’s your “I know what it means to have a dream and EARN it” story.

Stop being embarrassed by it. Start using it.

Because there is one thing nobody can take from you. Not the fancy-pants college grad at the cocktail party, not the know-it-all education snob relative with a bunch of letters after his name, and not the competitor who just got another certification he’ll mention in every sales meeting. That is what you’ve actually lived through, overcome, and produced in spite of every reason to fail..

That’s far more powerful and convincing than a PhD.

That’s a track record.

Related: What tried to break me, built me