Vulnerability

Vulnerability has reached a different meaning for me this year. It is something that I thought I had all figured out. I thought it meant that if I was an open book about things that happened to me, or that answering any question truthfully that someone asked of me is what it meant to be vulnerable. But, as this year has panned out, I found that I really needed to dig down deep and find out what that looked like for me. I realised that I wasn't being as vulnerable as I imagined, and in a way, I felt like a traitor to myself.

The term seems plain, but it is very diverse and for each of us it looks very different. This year has severely humbled me. It has shown me that I cannot do this alone. And to begin with, I think this acknowledgement was a larger step than I was prepared to take. If I thought about it for any longer than I did, I would have backed out. I was playing a constant game of chicken with myself. "How far can I push my loneliness until I crack?" It was extremely unhealthy and I hope I never find myself taking steps backwards into that space.

I needed to be around people that didn't require me to talk, some that allowed me to, and some just to exist by my side. I had to look those I love in the face and tell them "I need you". This is something that I haven't allowed myself before. The past few years, I have succeeded on paper. I felt that I had a relatively good lockdown, despite being in a studio apartment with a 6"5 partner who sometimes doesn't have a mute button. (Sorry, haha). I was working, I was collaborating with brilliant people, I felt like I had found where I was meant to be in life. Naivety is a curse. My health has steadily declined, I have a new problem to figure out every month. I have spent thousands on medical appointments and specialists. I started to feel suffocated by the city.

I strongly believe that as humans, we have a responsibility to tell the people in our lives what we need out of our connections. I know that no one can read my mind. Yet, for a long time I assumed that people could. I was isolating myself and then becoming lonely and bitter that those people weren't there for me. This year, I reached out to the people that I needed and lo and behold, they reciprocated! I felt like I was healing all of this pain that I carried for years. The pain that I carried when I was trying to figure out the world. Of when I was self-sabotaging and not facing my issues, instead creating mundane problems to fill the real void of vulnerability and human connection. I will always have a long way to go, and continually try to find the most peace that I can within myself and those around me, but for now I am OK. This year has been extremely challenging, but my heart feels genuinely warm (and not warm for the sake of instagram and glorifying my life by a showcase of carefully curated photographs). I feel genuinely loved, accepted, and cared for. And it's all because I learnt what my vulnerability looks like.