Choosing Vulnerability

I remember a time in my teens when my family and I, collectively, were in yet another altercation resulting from one of my mom's narcissistic rage episodes when I sat down, depleted, and said,

"Why don't we just go to family counseling?"

To which my mother responded,

"Counseling?! Ha! You think you need counseling? You go to counseling. I don't need counseling. Go." 

She continued to scoff to herself at the thought, rejecting any ability to be vulnerable,  and I continued to lose hope that I could ever safely express myself.

A victim of my own self-perceived limitations

Nobody ever said vulnerability was easy. It's not easy even for those who make it look easy. Making ourselves vulnerable can open us up to heartbreak and rejection. We become punching bags to the ill-intentioned. However, opening ourselves up also has the profound ability to create life-long connections. By being openly expressive even when it hurts, we allow ourselves to be heard and therefore understood.

There's another upside to vulnerability that I don't think a whole lot of people talk about, though, and that's inspiration. The ability to inspire others does not come with being perceived as perfect or lacking in personal issues. Inspiration comes when others see us addressing our own vices while living our best lives in spite of them.

Frank McCourt, author of the beloved memoir, Angela's Ashes, wasn't a particularly genius man. He wasn't a philosopher, he wasn't a model, and he wasn't especially significant (with the exception of having impacted thousands of New York public school students as a high school teacher). What Frank McCourt did, that was so special, was share himself with the world through his unique writing style and speeches. 

The story of McCourt's miserable Irish up-bringing, involving an alcoholic father and a mother who consistently risks her own dignity to ensure the success of her remaining children, is one that takes you on a rollercoaster of emotions. It's a story of shame, hardships, and admitting things to ourselves and others which we might normally hide to maintain our sense of self through outward image.  But, alas, McCourt's story reminds us also of the imperfection of our humanity of which we can all relate. It is in McCourt's ability to share his story that makes me think to my own self:

What would we know of the world if nobody shared themselves? 

My life experiences may or may not have been better or worse than McCourt's own life story. However, that is not the point. We all have problems, and we all have difficulties of all levels. Your issues, Reader, may or may not be comparable to mine. The point is, then, that if you find anything I write here in my blog to be in any way relatable then I know I'm doing right by myself and others in opening myself up.

16 year old me fighting people away with the very key to my own heart. Also, check out that Sid Vicious inspired hairstyle that lasted 4 months in 2013. Also Kingdom Hearts.

There was a time in my life when sharing myself was a defense mechanism: 

"Let me tell them how fucked up I am before they find out for themselves."

I thought that people were going to find out how messed up I was anyway, as a negative self-perception, so may as well tell them now so they can take me or leave me and I don't have to deal with the heartbreak and judgment of my character--the judgment that I'll somehow turn out like the people who have hurt me.

That insecurity in me, the fear of becoming like my mother, was actually manifesting itself in a self-fulfilling prophecy (which you can read about here toward the end). After I moved to South Carolina in 2013, I decided to ultimately try and reinvent myself from square one. If I became a completely different person, I wouldn't feel a need to share my story with anyone and everyone would simply perceive me as "normal." If I was "normal," I could fit in. If I could fit in, I would be loved.

How wrong and lonely I was in doing that. I was becoming mentally healthier in my social interactions with people by not pushing them away with oversharing, but never developed many close friendships out of a fear of rejection should they get close to me despite how much I craved and pursued closeness with others. Most of all, I felt misunderstood throughout the beginnings of my adult life because nobody could understand why I thought or behaved the way I did and still do. I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin.

My confidence was especially stunted when an ex-partner's father, whom I was trying to open up to and discuss my old aspirations of writing my own memoir someday, said to me, "So what? Everyone has a story to tell. What makes yours so special that you need to write a book?"

That same person also told me I had too many books and anyone who reads that many books has too much time.

Surround yourselves with the right people, folks. 

I like to think that if kid me knew kid Frank McCourt, I'd try to be his friend.

In the last couple of years, however, I've begun looking at my story in a different light. I remembered when I read Frank McCourt in high school and how inspired I felt. I looked at all the other motivational speakers or even personal connections and their ability to tell their stories either to me or to an audience. When I did hear or read other people's stories, I didn't feel so different in my humanity anymore. I didn't feel like the only person with the intense shame of my past weighing me down, and I didn't feel lonely.

Disclaimer: being alone is not the same as being lonely. The state of aloneness in itself is not a bad thing. Being alone is a state of being which we are all in. We enter this world alone with our thoughts and emotions and we leave this world alone with our thoughts and emotions. Nobody can enter our heads or hearts and read them for us. There's something empowering about our aloneness and our ability to take accountability for ourselves. However, aloneness becomes a weakness when we don't open our doors to the empathy of others, and therefore lock ourselves away from the natural desire for companionship and the desire to be understood.

Almost needless to say, without that companionship and understanding, we become lonely. 

We are all just beavers--alone in the universe--drifting away or gravitating toward one another. We choose.

I became less lonely when I read about other stories, and then I was inspired as a result to lose more of that loneliness. To lose it every time I open up about something I think someone out there will understand. To also understand that there are others out there who have overcome worse than me and still sought out the wild alone to find themselves in a place of growth and healing. To do the same for others using my own story of growth and healing. 

In other words, my awful past doesn't have to have been for nothing and it certainly shouldn't be used as a way to push others away to protect from rejection or heartbreak.  That would simply feel like a waste and lead me to some dark and lonely places. I find fulfillment in being able to share my stories with others even if I never ever get to know whether I inspired anyone or not--Frank McCourt and others don't know, and never will know, just how inspired I was by them. How one person's story can change another's entire outlook on life. 

In saying that, my motivations are obviously not purely altruistic as being vulnerable in order to help others allows me to find the silver lining in my own trauma. I am alone, but not lonely in my hardships. There are others out there who understand me, and by being able to relate to me in any way, regardless of how much better or worse their problems may be compared to mine, they can feel less lonely too. 

So, Reader, if ever you hear or read any part of my story and you find yourself relating to my humanity in any way, I just want you to know that I see you. 

I understand you.

I have much love for you and whatever stories you also store within.

You are the reason I write my blog.

You are the reason I will always choose vulnerability--no matter how hard life gets.

"Everyone has a story to tell. All you have to do is write it."

- Frank McCourt

Song listened to: "The Good Parts" by Andy Grammer