the vulnerability hangover
You know that feeling when you say too much? You've runned it over in your head, double checked if it's the correct time and space and now all that's left to do is too spill?...
Being open comes with a price. The possibility of the second party judging us or us becoming the judges of ourselves. To expose a truth, to confess a crush, admit a mistake, ask for help, ask for forgiveness or tell someone you love and care about their annoying habits. We begin to decipher and pick apart what we just shared about ourselves; physically or emotionally. If it's sharing our intimate art piece with our roommate, a business idea with our girlfriend or tell your "friend" that we would want nothing more than to be more than friends.
Odds are your going to feel queasy. Sick to your stomach even. Regret and doubt will undeniably settle in where confidence and certainty once felt at home.
Vulnerability is one of those muscles I've been trying to flex as of recently. Vulnerability is off limits for those who don't want to be associated with the overly-dramatic-overly-emotional-cry-babies. Despite popular belief, talking openly about feelings and such is a demonstration of strength, confidence, security, boldness, bravery and courage. When we bottle things up for the sake of not making others uncomfortable, we stop being our most authentic selves. We essentially lie to everyone around us. We show/tell the world a different story contrary to what is happening with us (and within us) presently. Hence we deprive them of being there for us and really knowing us.
Same thing goes with creativity. When we paint, sing or draw in secret, we deprive the world (or even our families) of knowing who we are through our art. When we don't come forward about being assaulted, depressed, abused etc. we deny people to know us through that pain.
I'm not saying that everything that happens to you, good or bad, should be shouted from the mountain tops, spray painted on the side of buildings or tweeted, but that someone should know. That out of 7 billion people in the world, a couple 100 acquaintances and your family of 5, there most be someone you want, should and can tell.
The vulnerability muscle gets harder to flex when you have had people slap the dumbbells out of your hand. *I'm going to leave the analogy on the shelf for a second and speak literally for once*. It's harder to trust people when they've given you reasons to not trust them or anybody else for that fact. It's harder to open up when people don't expect you to, don't give you room to or assume that you don't have anything to share.
People will always see you a certain way till you get vulnerable and flip the script. When you come out of the closet, people step into your reality, your present and the real you. But that's only when you get vulnerable and decide to come out, that others follow suit and that others feel like they too can share. That feeling afterwards in your stomach when you feel like you've done too much, that you really blew it this time, that you should keep your big mouth shut and your art pieces under your bed with dark chocolate wrappers instead of on some lucky customer's wall, is simply you being human. It's you feeling everything that comes with being an open human-being unafraid of their feelings, thoughts and present reality. Being open comes with a price. The possibility of the second party judging us or us becoming the judges of ourselves. That's what it means to take a risk. That's what it means to care about something. And that's what it means to be human. Thank you for allowing to be human on this platform.
