“When the student is ready, the teacher appears.”

That’s how I feel about Brene Brown. I’ve heard about her from many people over the years, but didn’t start reading her books until earlier this year when I was researching gratitude. Then I met the woman—she is amazing. Authentic, funny, compassionate—and everything she says is backed up by research.

One of the biggest things I learned from Brene Brown is the difference between shame and guilt. She put it very simply on page 71 of her book, Daring Greatly:

“Guilt = I did something bad.

Shame = I am bad.”

She further defines shame as “the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.”

But, we are all flawed. Everyone makes mistakes. Yet we can come to believe we have to be perfect to be “worthy of love and belonging.”

Brene Brown points out that feeling a sense of love and belonging is an “irreducible need of men, women, and children.” So when we feel we are not worthy of love and belonging, it creates desperation. From that place it’s really difficult to remain calm and openhearted.

Last week I was pulling out of an angled parking spot and bumped into the parked car next to me (I obviously had the angle wrong). The damage was minimal but the owner of the car, who was understandably upset, was very vocal. I went from being initially grateful that no one was hurt to horrified by the magnitude of my mistake—I felt like I was a mistake.

Having recently read Brene ‘s book, I recognized the feeling as shame. I called my insurance company to report the accident and then thought about who I could talk to in my personal life about what had happened.

Because that’s part of what Brene calls “shame resilience.” She recommends telling someone you trust the whole story. She says to choose someone who will not judge or pity you, but someone who will say, “I’ve been there.”

Later that day I called one of my sisters and told her everything that happened. When she told me about a time something similar had happened to her, I started to feel better. I also thought about what I could learn from the situation.

That’s part of my shame resilience. Finding meaning in whatever crappy thing happens. Learning from it in some way, using it to become a better person. Not a perfect person, just a more aware or more open human being.

Now I have language for that awful feeling of shame I’ve experienced over and over in my 46 years and I feel like I have a way to navigate through it and come out the other side feeling better and stronger.

By “better and stronger” I really mean I feel I am worthy of love and belonging.

You are, too.