Vulnerable. An adjective meaning susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm. For most people, the idea of being vulnerable is downright terrifying, and more often than not, it’s that exact fear of vulnerability that stops us from opening ourselves up to love. For the longest time, I was one of those people. I was one of those people, and at the time, I didn’t even know it.
My boyfriend and I have been together for over six and a half years now (it’ll be seven June 25th!), and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t really vulnerable during the first four. I didn’t come to this realization until after my car accident in August of 2017. The time period after my car accident was a time of major self-growth in all areas of my life—particularly in myself and my relationship.
During that time I had to take a good, hard look at myself and my life—I had no other option, every aspect of my life had fallen apart, including my relationship. I had to figure out why I was the way I was, why I did the things I did. Although a lot of my life was out of my control thanks to a drunk driver, I needed to take responsibility for myself, for my happiness.
I don’t know exactly when everything clicked into place, I honestly think it was more gradual than sudden. During that time I began peeling back the layers of myself and began trying to get to the root of who I am, what makes me me.
I have made mistakes. A lot. I have always owned up to my mistakes and have tried to learn from them. I have been a hardcore Demi Lovato fan for years now, and around the time I was going through all of this, her documentary Simply Complicated came out on YouTube. (I would highly remcommend anyone to watch it if you haven’t already, I believe everyone can take something away from it.) In the documentary, I found the fact that she was able to admit her mistakes and faults, take responsibility for them, and make an effort to work on them for her and only her so inspiring. After watching Demi Lovato’s documentary, I found the courage to say to myself: “I f*cked up.” I didn’t try to make excuses or justify anything, I simply owned up to it. And all at once, it felt like my soul was being opened up from the inside out. Suddenly, I felt like I could breathe again. By admitting my mistake, I was able to begin peering inside my soul, figuring out why I made the mistakes and choices I did.
When I looked inside of myself, I suddenly was able to begin understanding why I was impulsive, insecure at times; but most importantly: why I never allowed myself to be vulnerable.
The past shapes all of us into the people we are today. At the time I didn’t know it, but the scars from my childhood—specifically my teen years—and past abusive relationship had made their mark on me deeper than I could’ve ever imagined. I don’t particularly enjoy talking about the trauma I suffered from or the people who caused it because I don’t want to give them that power. They don’t deserve to be a part of my story. They may have messed me up, broken me, beaten me down, and scarred me, but they can never ever take away from who I am today. They are a part of my story because of their actions, not because of who they are. I am bigger than them. Their size is inconsequential.
I’m not going to lie, looking at wounds I thought I’d healed and moved from on was difficult. I didn’t want to go back and relive everything again, but I had to.
Once I dug deeper inside of myself, I understood my biggest fears and where they stemmed from. I realized that my fear of vulnerability came from feeling like I could never do anything right. Feeling like this is what caused me to lash out impulsively, to let stupid, little insecurities eat away at me, to keep my walls up. I understand now that my thought process was this: Since I can never do anything right, before someone inevitably gets disappointed in me, let me go ahead and mess up; this way, I’ll save the disappointment and the shame I’ll carry around in the end. I’ll do something bad because it’s going to end badly anyways. In the end, I’m always the one who gets hurt. I’m the one who feels too much, who will never be good enough.
That exact thought process is why I never opened myself up. Like I said, I didn’t know any of that was going on inside of me, it was all purely subconscious. I thought I was in love, had the best relationship in the world. Of course there were times that were harder than others, but that’s a normal part of relationships, right?
I kept my walls up because of the battle I was fighting internally. I never wanted to be made a fool of, and figured I was going to end up alone in the end anyway, so what was the point of allowing myself to open up?
After I realized and understood all of these things, I began to work on making myself more vulnerable in my relationship. By that point, my boyfriend and I were trying to work through our rough patch because of the mistakes I’d made, and allowing myself to be vulnerable for the very first time helped heal both myself and my relationship tremendously.
Once I allowed myself to be vulnerable, all of the things that caused rifts inside of me, my life, and my relationship disappeared. I no longer felt impulsive or like I couldn’t do anything right. The confidence in not only myself, but my relationship as well skyrocketed. It no longer mattered what happened in the end; in my heart, I knew I’d opened myself up fully, and for that, I could never say I didn’t give it my all.
If I thought I was happy before, it’s nothing compared to now. Even after losing everything, I am happy. I may wake up every day in pain, but I always wake up with a smile on my face. I’m no longer afraid to shout from the rooftops how much I love my boyfriend, how in love we are.
Through all of the bad, I have taken away so much good. I have learned that vulnerability isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength. It takes a strong person to open their hearts up to love, to give someone else their body, to allow another person to peer inside their soul. Someone who does this knowing that bad things can happen, that they can’t control everything, and that they may get their heart broken, is a strong person. Vulnerability is the greatest middle finger of all time to fear.
I am so grateful for my man. For who he is. For loving a little girl who believed she wasn’t worthy of love. For working on things when they got so dark it didn’t seem like there’d be a light at the end of the tunnel. For staying by my side. But most importantly, for allowing me to see in my own time just how special and deserving of love I really am. He never forced it on me, and for that I am grateful.
It’s hard for us to look within ourselves and truly admit our flaws to ourselves. Regardless of the situation, you cannot begin the healing process or start a journey toward self-confidence until you do this. Once you admit the flaw or flaws, you can begin dissecting the variables, circumstances, or even subconscious reasoning behind your actions. You will not truly heal, move on, or live a more positive and mindful life if you justify every situation and don’t take the time to analyze your behavior, actions, and responses. Don’t be afraid to go on a self-exploration journey. You owe it to yourself and the ones you love. Whatever the case may be, remember, keeping a wall up is never the answer. I feel so free now.
