During grade school, my fair complexion exposed my emotions without my consent.

Whenever the teacher called on me, I blushed. When we were asked to read aloud from our history books and my turn came around, my cheeks flushed pink. When I walked onstage to receive my award for "good citizenship" in the second grade, my face flashed red as a stoplight.    

A funny childhood friend who happened to be a dark-skinned African American kid razzed me about my unpredictable skin tones. Laughing, he'd point at me while saying, "You're blushing, pale face!" On cue, my cheeks changed from rose petal pink to berry red.  

My countenance cast the impression that I was shy and easily embarrassed. Hiding these traits was impossible; my skin and emotional makeup conspired against me. Some children gather up the vulnerabilities of their classmates like bees gathering pollen. I was an open flower with plenty of pollen for the taking.

There were none of the negative consequences associated with my blushing often seen with other conspicuous frailties that brand kids. The stutterer, the chubby kid, and the kid with glasses were targets for mean spirited teasing. Blushing endeared me to the kids in my class and later to co-workers, friends, and boyfriends. As uncomfortable as it was to exhibit my emotions like the neon on a movie marquis, I never suffered for it. Quite possibly I profited. 

Psychologists in the field of emotion research at the University of California Berkeley studied embarrassment and published an article called "Flustered and Faithful: Embarrassment as a Signal of Prosociality" in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.

After reading about these studies, I have a better understanding about the advantages accorded a blusher.  

The authors write, "expressions of embarrassment serve vital social functions." They found that displays of embarrassment engendered positivity in those witnessing the unease. In other words, outward signs of cringing inside such as stammering and turning scarlet, send the message that those showing their embarrassment are more caring, kinder folks. 

The study results indicated that those most easily embarrassed tend to be more generous, more cooperative, and more monogamous in relationships. They have a high likability factor. Other people want to entrust them with resources.

We all have our horrific fantasies of mortifying situations lying in wait for us in our everyday lives. Stepping up to the podium to deliver a speech with a mind gone blank and misplaced index cards. Arriving at a wedding reception and experiencing a Janet Jackson type wardrobe malfunction in full view of the bride’s family. An unchecked burp concluding a meal of spicy chili during a business lunch with a prospective client.

Focusing on the pluses of revealing our sensitive side to others can heal our anxious fears of jeers and jabs for our exhibitions of embarrassment. Some of us are born with thin skin and surface blood vessels; our responses are ruled by the way our autonomic nervous systems process our emotions. Others are better equipped to sequester their episodes of embarrassment.

No one wants to get caught with their pants down. The dread intensifies when we imagine others pointing and laughing at us. The studies at the University of California Berkeley contradict those fears. 

Have you ever accidentally opened an unsecured door to the bathroom stall in a restaurant restroom when it was occupied? I've been flustered on either side of that door. My face is aflame and I'm apologizing profusely whether I'm the one opening the door or the one caught with my pants down.

If I happen to bump into my bathroom acquaintance in the restaurant, we repeat the apologies, chuckling together in a spirit of acceptance. To err is human. To be embarrassed is human, too. Showing the signs of our embarrassment enables us to embrace the humanity in each other.