Vulnerability

I spent a week in paradise recently thinking about life, about love, dreams, reality. About falling. About getting back up again. It was a combination of the massive crash before Christmas, the ‘Rising Strong’ book I was given as a gift, the five year anniversary of my un-marriage, the come down from GSMP and witnessing my bestie share her vows with a man she truly loves. So many humans I love and admire have reminded me about writing my thoughts down, journaling and reflecting. It’s always been such a personal thing but the topic of this post says it all really — be open, be honest, be vulnerable. So…for the first time in my adult life I am choosing to be vulnerable. I am choosing to be brave.

Let’s go back in time. My early memories, as a teenager, illustrate a pattern of behaviour that I’m not proud of. I valued myself through the eyes of men, well boys really. There were so many of them I lose count, but when I think back there is one moment I can picture quite clearly, one guy who continuously haunted my teenage years. I’m not sure you would call him handsome but he had ‘that thing’ about him… you know ‘that thing’?

I remember one night we were at a party, it was close to home, I was maybe 14. After a few beers we made our way to the soccer field, stumbling, laughing. Things happened — I remember it like yesterday. I went to sleep that night shrouded in a warm glow, giggly and overwhelmed. The next week at school he denied anything had happened between us when people asked him. It made me feel so many emotions — unwanted, ugly, shame, vulnerable, fear, a failure — so many negative emotions. Why wasn’t I enough? What was so horrible about me?

That’s one story of many — but I guess what I’m trying to say is that over the years, probably starting from as early as the age of twelve I placed my value in the hands of boys who didn’t give a fuck about me. I learnt pretty quickly to hide my real emotions, push people away, build walls to protect myself. I got stuck in a circle of self-doubt and fear. I think this continued with my ex-husband who broke my heart more than I ever thought possible… but that’s another story.

So… while I was in paradise I thought over all the times I have gone ‘all-in’ and all the times I haven’t. I visualised all the moments I have shared my innermost thoughts and all the moments I haven’t. It didn’t take long to see that people’s reactions to my truth were the catalyst for staying honest or running away. It was an epiphany — a realisation about how much I placed my worth and my truth in the reaction of others.

I can’t begin to count the number of times I have heard the words ”Nothing happened”, but just because nothing happened for one human doesn’t mean nothing happened for the other. Everything happened — you turned my world upside down, you infiltrated all my thoughts, you filled a space that was empty, you captured my imagination, my lust, my curiosity. You changed me, more than you’ll ever know. Regardless of whether or not you asked for this, you became part of my story and created a storm in my world.

Anyway, I digress. So back to the point of writing all this down. Vulnerability. We share all our words and thoughts with others when we fall in love, we open ourselves up to the opportunity of joy and of pain. In my case, whenever the pain set in, instead of just sitting with all the feelings or asking myself ‘Why?’ I would push people away. I would slam the door closed on all the emotions, praying they would dissipate. Sadly, I would return to my constant, life-long pattern of behaviour. Shame, feeling like a failure, placing my value in the world on the fact someone didn’t want me, or didn’t feel as intensely as I did.

So, I numbed the pain. Numbing has been a constant in my life. Picture emotions as having sharp points, like thorns. After a while the mere anticipation of a broken heart triggers a sense of intolerable vulnerability. I know what’s coming so instead of leaning into the discomfort and reckoning with it, I try to make it go away. Living busy, hard and fast so that the truth can’t catch up with me. I also shy away from feeling the feelings, because if I recognise my hurt or fear I’ll get stuck, I’ve been there before and it nearly killed me. If I engage with these feelings even a little, I won’t be able to move backwards and pretend it doesn’t really matter, but moving forward might open a floodgate of emotions that I can’t control and I HATE not being in control and having power.

This is the crux of it really. What I’m learning is that I go ‘all-in’, it’s my signature. There’s nothing wrong with this, the damage comes when I renege on who I am. Rainey was the first person to articulate my ‘all-in’ nature. The way I open my heart, my soul, my mind to other people and to experiences. She shared this quote during her speech about me at the Paper Plate Awards on the last night of GSMP in DC.

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms…” — Henry-David Thoreau, American Poet & Philosopher

I don’t pretend to be anyone other than me. I live by the motto of ‘You only live once’… until I get hurt and then, like a woman who's lost her armour in battle I retreat into myself. I backtrack. I shut down. I build walls. I pretend. I make right all the wrongs, so on the outside it looks like I’m doing just fine.

As far as the world can see this is exactly how it is. I have reread messages and emails I have sent to people I have fallen for and I can see the facade, the mask, the humour, the fake Fran. I’ve reread journal entries, screenshots of quotes, poems and doodles — all of which paint a real picture of my emotions, my pain, my confusion. There’s something about wearing your heart on your sleeve, but there’s also something about pretending to be someone you’re not or being ashamed of how much you love and how much you feel. I don’t want to bow down to others expectations or what society dictates is correct and right. Why can’t I love purely and loudly? Even if it’s unrequited or bittersweet.

Being vulnerable is hard. It’s painful. It feels like you’re handing your heart to another on a plate. It feels like the loss of power, you worry about what others might think. It feels like the opposite of everything I have been taught to value, but that’s not the truth, well it’s not my truth anymore. Pretending not to hurt is choosing to become imprisoned by the emotions I experience, but recognising and feeling them is choosing freedom. I want to grow and be the best version of myself. Therefore I am opening myself up to vulnerability and with it a whole new way of living life. I thought I was being weak, but I realise loving another human and being vulnerable and honest is the most courageous thing I could ever do.

Thank you to all the humans who have hurt me, broken me and loved me. It is through these life experiences that I am growing, shining and sharing. xxx