Scribble it Down

“On paper is where I get naked.”

I saw this line in a writer’s bio recently, and she definitely lived up to it.  Her article oozed openness, authenticity, honesty, … no holding back.  I felt as if I knew her as there seemed to be no mask between us.  Each of her words connected with me somehow, as if she knew a part of me too.  Yet, I was aware that we were different.

See, I envied her freedom in her writing and in the person that shone through her words, and I wanted to be just as free and real.  I realized that what made her art beautiful, what allowed her to connect with me and probably hundreds or thousands of other readers, was her courage to be vulnerable, to get naked on the page, as she so aptly put it.  And so I decided that 2015 is my year to explore vulnerability, to welcome it, and to get ‘naked’ both on and off the page.   Anyone want to join me?

I used to think that vulnerability was a weakness. That it was about being small, scared, and easily hurt.  I just didn’t want to be it- vulnerable, that is.  So I avoided situations where my vulnerability would show through, even though deep down inside, I imagined it
was just written all over me- ‘Little Miss Vulnerable’.  I hid in the girl’s bathroom at school when I felt like I didn’t fit in or had no one to play with at recess.  I didn’t put up a fight when my mother wrote me sick notes to get me out of P.E. class because I always thought I was going to be picked last in games anyway. I didn’t want to keep fumbling a ball and missing a catch, or for my classmates to wait for me while I was the last at the finish line in track practice.

I hated running, yet I seemed to be good at running from the things that made me feel inadequate.  For so many years, I hid behind my books, my studies, and my big, dorky, pink glasses, while my classmates went to pool parties, skating field trips, and skiing getaways.  I couldn’t bare the thought of looking stupid in front of other kids.  I felt so uncoordinated playing sports, while they seemed to come so naturally to the other kids.  Sure, those years being studious and all ‘in my head’ had their own payoffs.  I got good grades, I was a stronger writer or reader than some of my classmates, and I built up good work habits that I still use to this day. But I should have been building those academic skills out of choice, not as a scapegoat.  I needed to have more balance in my life, and include more social and physical activities in my day.

No one reminded me that NOT doing those activities that I was scared of wasn’t going to somehow make me magically better at them one day.  No one told me that you can’t run from all your fears, or all your ‘shortcomings’ all your life, because boy, do they catch up with you in other ways.  Sure, I might not have to go to P.E. class now as an adult, and I can choose the types of parties I want to go to.  But, what about the skill of falling and getting back up that I missed out on?

If you were like me and didn’t take the opportunities to fall and make mistakes when you were younger, to scrape your knee, or lose your grip on the monkey bars, or let go of the rail at the ice rink or risk looking into the eyes of the guy sitting next to you to see how he really feels, then learning to get back up as an adult isn’t just hard, it’s unfamiliar.

“I will make better mistakes next time,” are the words written across a t-shirt my voice teacher owns.  She knows the power of allowing yourself to make ‘mistakes’ and take chances, to not get stuck in the idea of ‘what it’s supposed to be like.’  In fact, she uses vulnerability as a tool to connect with her audiences.  “Be naked” was the advice she actually gave me a year ago when I was practising to sing in front of a bunch of people for the first time.  We often hear that one of the best ways to get over ‘stage fright’ is to picture your audience naked.  But my voice teacher allowed me to see that giving of yourself- nerves, emotions, and all- to the audience, rather than taking or expecting a reaction from them, makes for a stronger connection.  Because by simply being who you are, and what you feel, at that moment, you let the audience in to that energy of authenticity as well.  And this gives them permission to be real and vulnerable too.   “In order for connection to happen, you have to allow yourself to be ‘seen.’- to be vulnerable.”(See TED Talk link attached below).  And this allows your audience to do the same.

When it was finally time for me to go up to the mic and sing, I was so nervous that my hands got really shaky.   I remember regretting taking the mic off the stand as soon as I realized I couldn’t keep my hand still. Once it was over, I wanted to scream out “I can do it better, really!”  I had worked hard practising those songs for months. I was so angry at myself for not pulling it off the way I had hoped. The little girl I was so long ago seemed to come sneaking back to me.  “Why did I have to embarrass myself by getting up there?” she asked. “Why didn’t I just ask for another sick note, or hide in the bathroom like I always did,” she demanded. “We were safer there,” she reminded me.

I had to ask myself the same question- why DID I even bother doing these ‘scary’ things, that didn’t have any sort of sure outcome?   It is uncomfortable to open up and share your feelings, especially when you don’t know how your nerves are going to hold up.  You might get shaky hands, you might miss that monkey bar, you may land your butt on the ice at the rink, or admitting you have a crush on that guy may result in your own crushed heart.

But what is the other option? To never know?  Is there strength in that? When someone is vulnerable, they may feel small, scared, or easily hurt, yet the beauty in whatever they do is that they do it DESPITE feeling this way.  They make mistakes not caring if the outcome is perfect or not- “The courage to be imperfect” (TED Talk below).  COURAGE, not weakness.  Vulnerability is about being brave. It is not about being scared, and running away. It’s about being scared, and still facing that fear and sometimes running right towards it. And learning to “Lean into the discomfort of it,” is part of the art of using vulnerability to fully live life. Paulo Coelho, my favorite writer, actually refers to those who live in this way as Warriors.

And thinking back, I realized it wasn’t the kids who threw a ball perfectly, or the classmates who ran the fastest, or those who skied down the toughest slopes that necessarily stood out to me. It was those kids who ran and stumbled, and laughed it off and got right back up again – they were the ones that I admired. They said what they really felt.  They just tried everything, and had fun, mistakes and all!

What we often forget is that when we are so open to the things that may possibly hurt us, this means that we are also open to more joy, passion and freedom than the people out there who don’t take these risks.  “The passion is IN taking the risk.”* And I want to live a passionate life.

Being vulnerable is being free. You, unlike the less vulnerable, are not hiding behind a façade, a persona that you think others want to see or want you to be.  There is no space for the regret that comes from not trying. Instead, as the one who is vulnerable, you bare it all- naked- for everyone to see you just as you are. And they can take it or leave it.  You may still be anxious about what others think about you, yet, you let that go. You know that the only way you can truly be faithful to yourself is to take that risk. You have decided that saving that uniqueness about you is worth it.

And then I realized that as an adult, I have had some instances of vulnerability that I can be proud of.

Besides learning to sing, and starting to take opportunities to sing in front of others, I also joined a performance dance group, even though I was terrified of dancing in front of people years ago. But I wanted to get over that, and so I learned to trust that my body would remember the steps, and sequence, despite my nerves.  It wasn’t perfect, but I actually had fun making mistakes here and there, and figuring out how to still dance through them and keep smiling.

I also traveled to a few places on my own, without knowing a single person there, and sometimes without even knowing much of the language of the country either. Yet, I learned to communicate in some form or another, and sometimes I got lost. But, other times, the ‘wrong’ turns took me to places that I didn’t even know I needed to go.

There have been a few times that my travels were for ‘love’ or at least for some sort of tug I was feeling at my heart strings. For example, after writing to a particular guy for over a year, I decided to go out and see him in the states.  It took a bus ride and a flight to get there, but before I arrived, he decided to let me know that he suddenly wasn’t comfortable meeting up with me.   Of course, I was hurt and confused.  I learned that I mistook the whole thing for something it wasn’t, including the kind of guy I thought he was, not just on a romantic level but even as a friend. He didn’t really care about me.  All those emails, all those emotions built up… I was embarrassed at how much time I invested in it, in HIM.  He would never have flown anywhere for me, so what was I thinking?  But then, I realized that that is precisely why I should be proud of myself.  It turned out that though I thought he was the courageous, outgoing one, I ended up being what I never thought I would be: someone who was brave enough to go find out rather than spending my life wondering.

The funny thing is that because I went there so open hearted, yes, I got hurt over the guy I had originally gone to see, but I met another guy while I was there, who actually treated me with the attention, affection, and respect I was looking for. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed him, or attracted him, if it wasn’t for how open my heart was at that time, even if it was wounded.  This guy helped me smile, brought me laughter, but most of all, from the moment we met, he himself was open and unguarded with his feelings.  He shared his passions and dreams with me, even though we hadn’t known each other very long. He knew I would be leaving to go back to Vancouver soon, and instead of letting that scare him, he made sure not to take his time with me for granted.  He called me and asked me out within a couple of hours of meeting me, introduced me to his work colleagues, drove me around the city, shared his music and writing with me, and showed a genuine interest in me and who I was.  We kept in touch for awhile, though things trickled off after a few months.  But I think he was the universe’s way of showing me that taking chances and admitting my feelings for someone is a great thing. It may not have been reciprocated by the person my affection was aimed at, but sometimes, what you want comes to you from someone you didn’t even expect.

I have been lucky enough to make some inspiring friends who prove to me each day that being vulnerable is beneficial and
worth it.  One of my friends left med school in England to pursue her passion for singing in New York. And now, after years of living in Brooklyn, singing, and being true to herself, she inspired me once again by pursuing a relationship with a guy who she knew would be returning to his home in Ireland in a few months.  She was the one who convinced him that they should make the most of their time together, rather than ending things early because of the fear of getting hurt or of having to say bye.  To me, that is brave, beautiful, and something to look up to.  I don’t know many people who would put themselves in such a vulnerable position.  But I do know that I want to live my life with that kind of fullness.

Here’s to a year of “fully embracing vulnerability!”

“What makes us vulnerable makes us beautiful.” (TED Talk below)

*(from the movie- When In Rome)

***Special thanks you to Helene Roy for inspiring this post,

and for believing I could do justice to such a deep topic in the first place.***

CHECK OUT THIS AMAZING TED TALK BELOW- THE POWER OF VULNERABILITY