Vulnerability

                Ican finally breathe.

Of course, this isn’t how I have always perceived this bold act. Being able to breathe and all. . .

Interesting thing begins to unfold in your life when you live it with more vulnerability. Back to that in a moment. . .

I spent most of my life, up into my mid-20’s, locked and loaded in survival mode. I was on my own. I was in a big city. Being resourceful and hardworking, yet sweet and seeing mostly the good in people, I was often a clear target. I didn’t attract the best of people. Still, those people taught me the most remarkable lessons of my life.

I learned to protect myself. I was deceived by people—which lead to the development and trust of my intuition. I learned to prioritize my needs instead of bending over backwards to please others. I also learned how to hustle and GO GET what I wanted out of life.

I learned these lessons young. Whilst most of my peers were in college, I was renting an apartment on my own by 19 and learning “life lessons.” The type that no school can teach you.

I also happen to have a not-so-sweet past with men and therein lies my biggest struggle to be a vulnerable woman. I’m referring to all interactions: male role models in my family, intimate partners, men in the different lines of work I’ve experienced and even daily interactions with men.

Now, they haven’t all been terrible. I happen to have some truly treasured, platonic relationships with male friends—some of which have become like brothers and I trust them with all of my heart. There is also my actual brother, who has been the most positive and inspiring male role model in my life. He is 9 years my junior.

With that said, I once viewed vulnerability as a weakness; an open door to let in the worst of life and the worst of people. So, somewhere in my ventures, I closed up and shut down. I didn’t allow people in anymore—even those that deserved it and needed it from me. 

   The unfortunate thing about this is, it would be many years before I would even realize and awaken to the fact that I                                                                        was doing this and suffering greatly for it.

Recently, I’ve undergone a major transformation that shone a light on the darkest places within me. I sat in amazement and sometimes heartbreak at what I’d resorted to in order to “survive.”

I could look honestly at the complicated relationship I helped to create with a man I was and still am absolutely crazy about. When, at those brief moments, I gathered the courage to take the lid off of me and expose myself or my feelings; it was immediately followed by the most elaborate marathon. Some cross-country, Forest Gump, shit.

Essentially, I ran for the hills.

I could not handle that wide-open feeling.

Now, I see my shit. I want to be my best and my most authentic. So, what does that look like now?

Ha! Fuck if I know. I’m living it daily. It’s messy and raw and miraculous and confusing and new and EVERYTHING all at once.

That man I mentioned above, the one I am mad for, he is still around. Now, he is experiencing the real, wild, me. He stuck around even when it came spilling out, scaring the hell out of me.

I am told this vulnerability thing calms down after some time of putting it into practice in your life.

We’ll see. I am not giving up. The plan is to make this apart of my being in a way that I don’t repress or hide who I am.

Whoa.