Musing No. 12

Being vulnerable is hard. Because it means being our truest selves in a time where we carefully curate people's perceptions of us. And because being vulnerable comes with the innate risk that we may be rejected, and many of us are naturally risk averse. 

But what we need to remember is that vulnerability is actually a strength. It is the key to deeper connections with family, friends and partners. Your people are the folks who know that you snort when you laugh and still find it adorable. It's those people that you have had the courage to share your deepest fears, highest ambitions, craziest dreams and darkest secrets and who have reciprocated your vulnerability with a show of theirs as well. 

Yes, it can be scary as heck, especially if you've been burnt or disappointed before, but who hasn't been hurt? We're hurt all the time! It's so easy to become cynical and let these past experiences deter you. But it doesn't have to be that way, and it's only recently that this dawned on me.

It's been several years since I've even toyed with the notion that I could feel for someone the way I felt once before. So that exciting, slightly frightening, if not nauseating joy you get when you're speaking, looking, thinking or talking about someone you have a connection with was like a bolt through my system. I'd dated a couple of guys in the time since but none brought that deep sense of comfort or inspired a need for vulnerability. In full honesty I had become somewhat jaded and pessimistic. Something that's not difficult when an increasing number of men are either quoting Nyakundi (even before I knew who he was) or walking around also weary and investing very little in relationships...but that's a post for another time.

So abandoning caution I opened up that part of myself that was so out of practise. I allowed myself to be vulnerable. And it felt so good. (I suspect this is how The Grinch must have felt when he finally let the spirit of Christmas in, hahaha!)

It was like crisp, fresh air when you've been inside for too long, or a drink of water on a scorching day. Not to be overly dramatic but it did feel like my very soul and spirit were rejuvenated. It was a coming-to-life although I had had no idea the extent to which some parts of myself had withered.

And that's the thing about spending your days being guarded and keeping your vulnerabilities under check. You do it so well that you begin to accept that how you feel and interact with others is the modus operandi.

Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness. Brené Brown*

 And for a few weeks it was bliss,and I thrived in the contentment and happiness that this new connection was allowing me to experience.

But as suddenly as it began, it ended and I found myself in a predicament.

This painfully brief connection could either serve to reinforce my fears on vulnerabilities, and my paralyzing belief that a deep connection truly was a once-in-a-lifetime possibility. Or I could use it as an opportunity to learn and in doing so be glad of it in some way. 

I chose the latter, because even though there was no happy ending, allowing myself to be vulnerable has left me with a sense of strength and conviction about some things:

That you can indeed love briefly but deeply. A realisation that you can have someone in your life for years and not truly know them, and meet someone new and in a few brief weeks know them more keenly. It's not the duration of acquaintance but the depth of conversation you have with someone that really matters.

That sometimes you have to be selfish. To chose your own happiness over what logic or others would dictate. Life is short, and we're not getting out of it alive! You have to seize the moments of joy where and when you find them,and know that you deserve them. Screw the rest!

I have also learnt that I like my hand to be held. Not in a tight hold but in a gentle grasp that feels both fleeting yet intentional. That this one small act with the right person can still make my stomach flip.

I have learnt that while I have become acutely aware of the steady passage of time, I can still find novelty, and excitement. It's not a reserve of teenagers. That conversations until 2am on a weekday are still possible. That people still pick up the phone and call, and that the sound of someone's voice will win over text messages every single time.

And lastly, I have learnt that you can still know what the right thing to do is but still face great temptation to ignore it. That was an important realisation, and perhaps explains why so many good people can make bad choices. I'm still working through this lesson because it can sometimes conflict with the need to do what brings you joy.

Like I said, I know it's difficult to let yourself be vulnerable, but remember there is courage in trusting others to see all of you, in allowing yourself to fall in love, and even in trying out a new career, in spite of the fear of rejection and judgement. 

Sometimes you'll end up getting smacked in the face for it, but other times it'll lead you where you need to go, and to the people you were meant to meet. You never know. And that's why even though this story didn't have a happy ending, I'm determined to have the courage to show all of me in future. 

So I encourage you to live your life with more vulnerability! Love recklessly and often, have the courage to do what you want to do, and be who you are with no fear.

*And now all of Brené Brown's books have been added to my 2018 TBR list hahaha.