On Vulnerability and Connection

How I used “openness” to avoid vulnerability


“That’s really brave of you.” “It’s amazing that you can let yourself be so vulnerable.”

Since I started sharing my story through writing and conversations, I’ve been hearing these types of things more frequently. But, like most things that I’m not ready to hear yet, I didn’t understand. I would think “That’s weird. I don’t feel brave.”

I would be momentarily confused and then I would go on with my day. It would pop up in my head every now and again when a friend would tell me how they could never share what I’ve been sharing. That they could never be so open, honest, and brave. But it never sunk in.

This was one of the hardest things for me to come to understand. It felt as if I was missing something. Like it was just at the edge of my vision. The tip of my brain. But it remained elusive.

Then one day, I tried to bring it up to my therapist again. I had previously mentioned that I felt like I was missing something big and important, but could never grasp it enough to even talk about.

This time was different. After talking in circles for a few minutes, he stopped me and asked me to be fully present for a couple minutes. He shared that something I said to him near the beginning of the session made him feel bad. He asked me how it felt to hear him say that.

I felt bad, but then as I began to answer his question, instead of saying how I felt, I immediately started analyzing why what I said made him feel that way. Why I said what I said. What I could do to change it. I told him it was just a miscommunication.

He stopped me. He asked me again, “How do you feel?”

I snapped back to the present and felt incredibly uncomfortable. I admitted to him and myself that I felt guilty and sad.

“This right here is what vulnerability feels like,” he said.

He helped me stay present for a few more minutes as we practiced sharing and sitting in a state of vulnerability.

I felt incredibly uncomfortable for this entire process, but I felt something else that I don’t know if I have ever fully experienced before. A deep, open, vulnerable connection to another human being.

He explained that a lot of times, people who have gone through tough and/or traumatic events learn to be able to recall their past as if they were “reading from a script” to protect themselves.

This was it! This is what I’ve been missing!

It started to come together. Whenever I go through something, instead of staying in the moment and accepting how I feel, I go through a procedure that allows me to appear as if I am open and vulnerable all while keeping my walls up and keeping my feelings and people at a safe distance. I analyze, adapt, and then share.

Analyze: I ask myself why and how? If I’m thinking about it, I can’t feel it.

Adapt: Come up with a way to prevent future occurrences. If I adapt, I’ll never have to deal with this again.

Share: I tell the story of how I changed and overcame the thing that I experienced in an attempt to make a connection with a person or a group.

I share the facts and I share my victories. I never share what I’m feeling when I’m feeling it. Especially when I’m feeling sad, lonely, or weak. I can count on one finger the times I remember calling a friend and telling them I felt bad and I needed company or to talk about something.

It all makes sense now. All this time I was sharing, and being honest and “open,” but I wasn’t being brave. I wasn’t being vulnerable. I was somehow sharing some very personal things with people while still having my defenses up. I was simultaneously reaching for connection and keeping people at a safe distance.

Sharing personal details and being open about myself and my journey does not make me vulnerable. It does not make be brave. It does not allow me to connect with people. It just lets me feel as if I’m making an effort, but more often than not, since I’m expecting connection but not open to it, I am disappointed and tend to feel worse afterwards.

All this begs the question. Am I being vulnerable right now as I’m writing this? I don’t think so. I mostly feel detached when I write. But let’s try to change that.

I am generally lonely and long for connection. I am sad that I have kept people at a safe distance. I feel somewhat disconnected from even my closest family and friends and because of that, I feel lonely and isolated. I feel like an idiot for not realizing and understanding this till now.

I feel sad that I don’t feel connected to the people that will read this. I want to share my journey because I hope it will have a positive effect in the world and I want to connect with those who I may help.

That part was very difficult to write. I felt truly vulnerable and open to real connection.

I’m not writing this to tell you about how I overcame something, but because I feel as if I’m starting a new chapter in my life.

I hope that even though I’m writing this mostly for myself to help me process this and to practice being truly vulnerable, that it can help you with something in your life.

I know how vulnerability feels, what my defense mechanisms are and how they feel. If I remain mindful, I can watch for my defenses and, when appropriate, I can bring myself back to the moment, bring my defenses down, and open myself up to connection.

For the first time that I can remember, I believe that I have the foundation, perspective, and understanding necessary to build healthy, strong, and deep connections. I’m scared and excited to see how my life and my relationships will change from here.

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I Cried Tonight

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My (dis)Comfort Zone: Why I Choose Discomfort