I’m (reluctantly) leaning into my vulnerability

I like writing. A lot. But I’ve only just started sharing it with the wider world, and boy does it feel exposing! The act of typing, privately, just me and the computer is lovely. A release. A real joy. But earlier this week, I pressed publish for the first time. Not to anyone per se (my twitter followers to date are minimal, consisting mainly of family members and a sprinkling of friends) but I opened up the possibility that one day, someone might read it – might hear my thoughts about parenting my kids, about my experiences, which frankly don’t always paint me in the best light, but that I believe might bring comfort, or insight to someone else, might just be worth sharing or starting a conversation about.

But honestly, its making me want to run back to the shadows, back to the privacy of my computer screen and me, away from any potential vulnerability. But Brene Brown is now in my consciousness, and what she says makes sense to me. She dares us all to lean into our vulnerability – to not try and rush to certainty when everything feels uncertain. It’s not easy though. Not a bit. I feel icky inside sitting all vulnerable as I am, flailing about on twitter where everyone seems to know what they’re doing, with established followers, blogs, websites. I feel new, clueless, and slightly confused most of the time.

And yup, it reminds me a lot of when I first became a parent. And no one seemed as confused and lost as I did. Everyone appeared to have friends with babies, to know what they were doing, while I was flailing, tired and discombobulated. Happily, I get more sleep these days. My hormones are slightly more in check now that its 3 and a half years since I had my last baby. But that vulnerability is just the same. Just as uncomfortable. And I feel just as unwilling to sit with the vulnerability as I did back then.

But I’m going to give it a go this time. I’m going to try not to search desperately for a how-to manual, to keep putting one foot in front of the other however cluelessly, till the discomfort passes. A dear friend I confided in said that only by making himself feel vulnerable has he ever achieved anything he’s been proud of. He’s right. So’s Brene. So on I go.

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