I've been thinking lately about feeling vulnerable, about how I use feeling vulnerable as an excuse. I use it as an excuse for not getting out and being social. Being social risks too much, I tell myself. I use vulnerability as an excuse for hiding my emotions, even from myself, because the depth of my emotions scares me. I use vulnerability as an excuse for not telling people how much I care about them because I don't want to risk loving and losing. But you know what? Without vulnerability, I'm hard, stoic, and cold. I'm inhuman and inanimate.
Vulnerability requires action, either on the part of others, or myself. And since I believe I'm responsible for my own feelings, I don't think anybody can actually make me feel vulnerable. That's a choice I have to make for myself. And I don't think I can feel vulnerable as much as I can be vulnerable.
Failing to admit my hurt and pain and rawness is part of my perfectionism. And it sucks. It keeps me scared and afraid and trapped. I don't want that. I want to connect and learn and love and grow. All those things require movement, choice, decision-vulnerability.
Vulnerability is a verb, folks. It doesn't happen in a vacuum, and it doesn't happen without some pain and agony. So here's to being more vulnerable, come what may....
In the nature of embracing fears, I thought I'd share just a few scary things I've done lately to live life free:
(Here's a list I previously made.)
I cut my hair. To be precise, I cut 10 inches off my hair.
I've cut my hair before. But this time I was afraid. I was afraid of what others would think, specifically my dad. I was afraid I wouldn't like it. I was afraid I'd look ugly. I was afraid I wouldn't feel like myself. But then on the cruise I had this flash of inspiration that I'd be myself, haircut or not. I could belong to myself (Cue Brene Brown's Braving the Wilderness book, which I was reading at the time) and to God, long- or short-haired. So I did it.
In hindsight, I'm glad I cut my hair now. The hairdresser did a great job and styling my hair now is fast easy and convenient. I've received a lot of compliments. Even my dad says he likes the cut. I like it so much I think I might even keep it this way for awhile. But I wouldn't have known the joys of my new 'do without facing my fears of it.
I've been speaking my mind more. This can get me into trouble, and I definitely need to speak the truth in love (Eph 4:15). But I'm tired of being the quiet, meek girl in the back row pew pretending to be dumb. (Cue Matt Chandler's exhortation in his Beautiful Design sermon series.) I've got an opinion and I'm trying to learn to share it, albeit respectfully.
I climbed a mountain. This is a traditional hike for my family, but I haven't done it in a while. The trail was steep and the terrain loose and scary. Mom told me to look down and see how far we'd come. Since my fear of heights has grown as I've aged, I just kept looking up until I got to our final destination, and I made it. I looked down only on the return hike, because I had to.
Embracing fear doesn't always pay off. Sometimes it results in hurt (physical, mental, and/or emotional), hangups, and heartbreak. But in the long run, if I want to live life free, I've got to take some risks and feel some pain. In the face of that pain, victories like these feel even more freeing and joyful.
Friends, has embracing fear and/or taking risks brought joy to you lately? Please share your experiences in the comments section.
I am the oldest child in my family. I have a type A personality. I am competitive. I like to plan. I like to be in control of my life. I always try to keep myself safe. I'm not knocking my personality, but I'm realizing that it has kept me from really living life.
I started the #bucketlistproject this year to try to force myself to get out of my comfort zone, to do things I've always wanted to do, but haven't. So far, I've gotten through all but about six of my thirty items. But I must confess that each time, I've wanted to back out. I haven't wanted to take the trip, stay up late, feel tired, take risks, or experience pain. I still feel anxious about the routines I have to sacrifice and change to accomplish the rest of my bucket list. But you know what? I'm tired of living scared.
I'm tired of being scared to miss a workout for fear that I'll lose endurance and mobility and not be able to do what I want to do in the future.
I'm tired of not eating new or "unhealthy" foods for fear of getting sick or feel unwell.
I'm tired of skipping out on fun events because I fear disrupting my sleep schedule.
I'm tired of not asking questions because I fear people's responses.
I'm tired of hiding my true self because I fear how others will receive me.
I'm tired of missing out on life.
The ironic thing about living scared is that it hasn't really made me any safer. I've still had injuries and illness and accidents and relationship struggles. I keep a "perfect" schedule and still struggle to sleep. And no matter what I've done, I've never really been in control.
In the Old Testament, God said to the leader Joshua, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go" (Josh 1:9, New International Version). I'm not about to go off make rash decisions or take unneeded risks, but since God is with me, I think I've decided that I'd rather live than stay safe. I'm 30 and I only have so many years on this earth. I might as well live and see where life takes me instead of staying stuck in fear.
I'm tired of living scared. I'm ready to live free.
