The Unexplored Emotion by Maxwell

The Unexplored Emotion by Maxwell - May 2026 Scholarship Essay

Embarrassment is one of those unexplored emotions that quietly shapes behavior without most people ever fully examining it. For me, embarrassment was a filter for my behavior. If something carried even a small risk of being judged, misunderstood, or seen as “wrong,” I would hesitate, even if I knew I was very capable of doing it. Over time, that hesitation became a pattern that decided a lot of my life.

One of the clearest moments that showed myself how much embarrassment controlled me was when I chose not to do science fair. I had plenty of project ideas and the ability to participate, but when my friends brought the opportunity up, I couldn’t get past the thought of being judged by peers, teachers, or even just the idea of being seen trying and failing. When they asked what I was planning, I told them I wasn’t doing it and when they asked why, I didn’t give the real reason. I said I was too lazy. But that wasn’t true. I would have done it. I should have. The truth was simpler and too hard for me to admit at the time: I didn’t want to be seen trying something I might not excel at.

That pattern wasn’t limited to one decision. It showed up in smaller moments too—speaking less in class even when I knew the answer, holding back ideas until it felt “safe,” or overthinking how I would be perceived in situations where no one was thinking about me nearly as much as I thought. Even alone, I treated embarrassment like an audience I couldn’t turn off, as if being imperfect still carried consequences even without anyone there to judge.

Because of that, I developed ways to escape the feeling instead of facing it. I would distract myself with loud music, funny videos, or anything that could pull me out of my own thoughts. When I was younger, I would even sleep in class just to shut my mind off when I felt overwhelmed. Sports and exercise helped temporarily, but the moment I returned to the situation that triggered it, school, conversation, participation, the feeling would come back. And the hardest part was always the return, when I had to sit with what I had avoided.

What I eventually began to realize was that the longer I stayed silent or stepped back, the more power embarrassment seemed to have over me. But when I was forced to return to those same environments again and again, I noticed something else: most moments I feared were forgotten quickly by everyone else, even though I replayed them far longer in my own mind.

Over time, my response changed. Instead of trying to erase embarrassment, I began to accept it with more humility and humor because I was exhausted from being that way. I learned that when I treated situations as if they were shameful, others often responded the same way, but when I was willing to acknowledge mistakes, laugh at myself, and stay present, the weight of those moments faded. What I once saw as an impossibly large wall became something I could move through.

That shift changed what I was willing to do. I began participating more openly in class, speaking without over-calculating every possible reaction, and stepping into opportunities I would have previously avoided. I tried new sports and activities—water skiing, rugby, skiing, soccer, bodybuilding—not because I was confident I would excel, but because I was no longer letting the possibility of embarrassment decide whether or not I would explore. Eventually, that same mindset carried into more meaningful spaces, including applying for and earning an internship in oncology research at the UofL Brown Cancer Center.

Embarrassment, for the longest time, was an unexplored emotion that quietly limited what I thought I was capable of. But exploring the moments I would feel embarrassed has had a profound impact on the person I’m growing into now. It has provided so many opportunities I’m grateful for, and even though embarrassment still always comes with me now, it no longer decides anything for me.