Vulnerabilities

“He’s a good man. He loves his family, he respects women, he’s ambitious and goal-driven, and he balances these with hard work and perseverance. He’s very passionate and disciplined about the things that matter.

“His only fault, really, is that he fears vulnerability.

“And that’s one of the greatest paradoxes of life, I realized: If you want to be close to somebody, you have to keep yourself open.

“There’s a risk of being rejected or not accepted for who you are, but it’s nothing compared to the price of being inauthentic with yourself. I think allowing yourself to be vulnerable is brave. And it can be liberating.”

This was one of the mini-speeches I told my friends when we finally caught up with one another in a reunion. Thing is, it’s a dialogue conjured in my head. The people are real; they all exist. The place where this imagined scenario happens exists. The circumstance, not so.

It’s awkward, but since I got back to therapy this year to try to re-process my trauma, I’d been having these fantasies. My therapist asked me once why I was uncomfortable with having them when it was normal behavior. “It’s not any different from practicing for a public speaking engagement in front of the mirror even if the event doesn’t actually take place,” she told me. That gave me relief. At least, I know I am not losing my mind to this pandemic.

I have stopped writing here, though I did not actually stop my journaling: I’m currently on the second volume of what I call my trauma and healing journal, physical notebooks I purchased at a bargain price of only a dollar per piece.

It’s been my personal principle to trust people first, because the only way I can know if someone is trustworthy is to simply trust him or her. I’m not sure how I got that idea. That wasn’t always the case, though.

Growing up, I kept to myself. It’s what got me into writing. The blank page does not judge; people do, and they won’t care to tell you upfront. But I knew that the walls I built around me only kept me from enjoying whatever’s out there to enjoy. Brick by brick, I dismantled my defenses until it’s just me and the world. I’m open and vulnerable. I don’t lie. I can be frustratingly tactless. Diplomacy is a struggle. And, my boyfriend Nigel would say, it’s so easy to know my mood because it’s all on my face.

Recently, though, I’ve been wondering if I’ve been putting too much of myself out there. Privacy is a luxury in the digital space, but it’s always been something I valued. Even this blog is not indexed in Google by choice. I don’t promote it, though both my Instagram and portfolio site link back to it.

A lot has happened, so much that I also want to KonMari my mind and keep only markers of beautiful memories. This blog covered nearly everything about my life and private thoughts since 2008, from published entries to unfinished drafts. I kept thinking maybe it’s time for a fresh start for me.

It took me a long time to learn how to loosen up. I’m still learning. But I want to believe I’ve embraced vulnerability like second skin. I just don’t know if that’s still what I want now. Maybe I’m in so much pain, and I can’t give a part of myself anymore.

So, I’m just taking my time to cradle all the heartaches for now. Regardless of whether it’s still here or in a different home, I’ll find my way back. •