Archive for February, 2014

Each week seems to bring with it, a sort of “topic”.  Maybe it’s started by the events of the past 7 days, but usually ends with the therapist tying it all together with a nice little, reality, bow.

Last week it was intimacy. I really, really, meant to sit down and blog about that, and the movie “HER” and all things regarding  intimacy. . But alas, time got away from me. Maybe next week.

This week the intimacy topic carried over and we went deeper into Vulnerability.

When I think of the word vulnerability, it literally strikes fear into my very core.

Wait, Strike that.

It’s not the actual act of being vulnerable that scares me, rather the rejection that may follow my being vulnerable, that truly scares me.

I have been vulnerable all my life.  I was born that way.  I have never known how not to be vulnerable and allow others to see that in me.  I have always been open with affection and words.  I have cared tenderly for little animals my cat would bring up from the barn, animals that had no hope for living, holding them as they lay dying just so they wouldn’t  die alone.

I have always made friends with the new kids or the “odd man out” at school, never wanting this person to feel rejection or sadness.  Not caring what the other kids thought.

I always opened myself up to my mother in everyway possible, knowing full well she might disapprove, reject or even punish me, but still showing her the messy.  I know life is messy, but I am not the type of person to openly embrace the messy, that is not the way I truly feel inside, rather it is how I was raised to be.  Life for mom, was not supposed to be messy, the messy parts were to be hid away in a box, never to be shared with anyone, not even your children or spouse.  Then came along this messy, open, chaotic little mess (me) and  try as she might, I could not be contained like all the others.

I long to be accepted.  I long to be validated and listened to. I strive to be a voice among millions that has a vulnerability and a humanistic quality that people want to hear, want to embrace and ultimately approve and love.

I guess I have always been my most vulnerable with my writing.

Granted, writing is just a form of hiding oneself away from face to face contact, but when you send the link to a parent, boyfriend, friend or even just post it out into the cyber world… you really are allowing yourself to be vulnerable.  Vulnerable to judgment, rejection, disbelief or even ridicule.  I am my most honest when I am sitting in this chair, facing this computer screen and pouring my heart out to whoever happens to read.

In order to get the things we most crave, (love, acceptance, support, friendship, etc…) one must be vulnerable to some point.  I realize now, that I have been clawing, screaming even, my entire life, for SOMEONE to accept me at my most vulnerable.  I thought that was my mom.  I thought, next, it would be my sister, or dad, or a best friend.  None of those people have been available so I chose my boyfriend.  I have been my very most vulnerable with my boyfriend these past 4 months.  It makes me very uncomfortable to think about how very vulnerable I have actually been.

I the past I have tried hard to never seem vulnerable to him.  I had been vulnerable with men in the past and only got hurt, rejected or ignored.  So, I made a point of never allowing the CG to see me without makeup, smelling bad, being depressed, moody or even not happy.  He really did not ever know me, the real me.  The week my mom laid in the hospital bed, dying, he saw all of me.  I didn’t have the strength or the thought to try to hide the vulnerable child I was at those moments.  As she lay in hospice for 9 hours, dying, he literally held me up on my feet as I wailed and sobbed, and then went into shock, completely unable to function on my own.  He saw me at my most vulnerable.

The weeks that followed, he saw me angry, moody, depressed… but most of all… vulnerable.

Suddenly, one morning a few months later, I opened up to him about my past, purging all thoughts, vomiting up my most shameful secrets, telling him things I have done to others, with others, to myself.   My very most vulnerable self was opened to him.  He listened, he stayed steady and supportive, and he never did reject me.

As time healed my grief, I have found myself thinking back to that openness, that vulnerable time in my life, with shame and almost remorse.  Oh No! What did I do? Did I tell him TOO much? Did I reveal more than he ever should have known?  Does he secretly judge me now?

I felt him pull away a few weeks ago, or did I?  Is it just me feeling insecure about the things I told him? Me judging myself? Probably.  Is  it because he knows too much and now he himself feels vulnerable and uncomfortable being around me? Probably not.

Vulnerability is a very tricky little thing.  Especially for a woman, and especially for a woman that loves as deeply as I do.

I think being vulnerable has caused much of my own problems in life.

I am my most vulnerable now.

Am I scared of rejection and judgment? Constantly.

Am I going to let this change the way I view the world and how openly vulnerable I am with all those around me?

Probably not.




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