The Risk of Vulnerability

“Vulnerability is the only authentic state. Being vulnerable means being open, for wounding, but also for pleasure. Being open to the wounds of life means also being open to the bounty and beauty. Don’t mask or deny your vulnerability: it is your greatest asset. Be vulnerable: quake and shake in your boots with it. the new goodness that is coming to you, in the form of people, situations, and things can only come to you when you are vulnerable, i.e. open.” -Stephen Russell

2017 was a wicked hard year for me.  Early in the year I made a small mistake but one that cut to the core of my woundedness.  I won’t describe it mostly because it was a very specific circumstance and those who know me would know who the other parties are.

After nearly 2.5 years of my healing journey, this one mistake took me back almost to the beginning.  All of my old voices of shame and self-judgement came back to haunt me and confirmed what I feared all along- I truly am a lesser creature.

So I retreated.  I was working from home and it was easy to leave the outside world behind.  I became a hermit.  I left the house when I needed groceries, or wen the urge for a solo motorcycle ride struck, but otherwise I stayed in.  I gave up social media, stopped going to events with friends, and politely passed off any invitations for social interaction.

I made some really good excuses.  “I’m spending time with myself.”  “I’m learning how to be alone.”  “I’m in the process of self-discovery.”  All of which were true.  But underlying all of that was the fear that I would do something shameful again.  I had blown the mistake so out of proportion that it became the defining incident of my life for a while.

Healing is not linear.  

Our healing journeys are beset with switchbacks, obstacles, and dead ends.  Sometimes you sit in one place for months trying to figure out what the fuck is going on and sometimes the sharp-tooth creatures from your past come back to bite at your heels with renewed fervour.  2017 was all about the latter for me.

Then came the experience I wrote about in Here Be Dragons.  I had started to turn back towards the healing path a few weeks before when some things in my life started to align positively for the first time in months, but that mountain-sized catharsis truly pulled me from the doldrums and my hermitage.

One aspect of my solitude was the belief that I didn’t want any sort of relationship with a female that wasn’t strictly platonic and friendship-based.  I used a lot of the same excuses but again there was a harsh truth underlying my outward claims- it’s impossible to be rejected if you never ask anyone to accept you.

I was, and probably still am to a great degree, afraid of rejection.  It’s an entirely normal fear, rejection hurts the healthiest of us.  For those of us who struggle with shame and self-esteem rejection, especially by a potential partner that we may have great interest in being with, can be a deeply hurtful shove back into the miasmic swamp of self-loathing.

For the last couple months the idea of companionship has been raising it’s head in my the back of my mind.  At first I ignored its very subtle whispers but eventually I listened and considered.  I realised I was in an ok place and able to entertain the thoughts of reaching out to someone else.

I feel like I’m preparing to do something I’ve never done before- try and be truly vulnerable to another human being.  Well, outside of ceremony that is.  I can’t imagine being more vulnerable than I have been in those precious moments.  And that’s the lesson- I’ve had the most healing from the moments when I’ve been laid completely bare, raw, and vulnerable for others to see.  When I screamed in the temple a few weeks ago that was the sound of my deepest soul crying out for succour and surcease.

I’ve never truly been vulnerable with a woman before.  I’ve never let anyone see inside the mask.  I would sometimes wear a thinner mask with a partner but it was always there.  The inner critic told me that if I let them see the true me, they would be disgusted.

Yet that is exactly the goal this time around.  To find someone I can take off more of the mask with than I ever have before.  It is bloody well terrifying.  The last time I thought I loved a women it nearly destroyed me when it ended, but that is another story.  For now all I’ll say is that it was not a healthy relationship on my part.

It’s a testament to the power of this work that for the first time in my life I feel ready to open myself up and risk exposing the real me.

This is fucking huge.

I’ve installed a couple dating apps my my phone.  I’ve been outright ignored a couple, had several conversations fizzle to nothing, and I’ve had one go very well.  I’m meeting the person on the end of the good conversation tonight.

I’m ready if she doesn’t want to see me after that, if the dreaded post-in-person-meeting-rejection happens.  I feel like I’m approaching this whole thing in a healthy and grown up way.  This, from what I’ve gathered from the several women I’ve spoken to over the past weeks, is in and of itself a fairly rare thing in this day and age so I feel like I’m already doing pretty well.

Too often the word ‘vulnerable’ is associated with weakness or being wounded.  It can be, but it is also the opposite.  Is there anything more brave and strong than to cast off all your defences with another person and give them direct access to your soul?  Is anything more terrifying?  If there is, I can’t think what it might be.

Being truly vulnerable is the ultimate honesty, it is saying THIS IS ME without any of the filters we normally put between ourselves and other people.  It’s being confident enough in your own self to love who you are and offer that person to someone else.

The strength of being vulnerable is when someone doesn’t return that vulnerability.  It’s recognising that their taking a pass on you is not a reflection on who you are but rather it’s about the other person- who they are and what their needs are.  You simple don’t match what they need right now, there’s nothing negative about that.  It’s the difference between choosing steak and seafood for dinner; both are amazing and neither is diminished or elevated by your choice but tonight you’re simply in more of a scallop mood than ribeye.

Will I be hurt?  Maybe.  Ok, probably.  That’s ok, too.  Hurting and pain are necessary to understand and experience joy.  After the things I’ve been through in the last several years, a little potential heartache isn’t going to stop me.  Bring it on.

The real take-away for me is that I not only feel ready to be vulnerable but also that I want to be vulnerable; I am actively seeking it.  I won’t rush into anything, it’s important to establish trust and boundaries, but if I can find that person who can help me take off the mask and who really wants to see under it, I can’t help but imagine that it will be amazing and revelatory.