I am unbelievably clumsy. I drop my phone twice every day, have difficulties chewing a gum and walking straight at the same time and drop the glass full of water at least twice in a row.
I am constantly talking to myself or sometimes even imagine conversations with friends. If I happen to be alone in my apartment I talk loud alone and laugh to my own jokes. I am deeply convinced I will be this grandma who is very nice but very crazy and talk to trees out loud.
Even if I write almost every day about feelings, I apprehend initimate communication way more than anything because I deeply fear judgement or rejection.
Why we should all be vulnerable.
Vulnerability can be defined as the “quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.”
Vulnerability is often forced on us. We didn’t choose to be vulnerable and we find ourselves alone under the spotlight of possible mockery.
As hard as it is to believe, vulnerability should not be endured with shame and pain, but rather chosen as a dignified way to accept ourselves and others.
Admitting how foolish we can be, showing our ugliness to the outside world can be deeply frightening in a society that worship joy, standard beauty and positivity. It is because our society is deeply uncomfortable with sadness. Yet, each and everyone of us will at times feel unfairly judged, completely misunderstood and fated to be lonely.
However, vulnerability is a safe bedrock for friendship. To others and to ourselves.
Everybody could love us because we are funny, clever or generous. However how many of us would choose to stay if we admitted how angry we can become for the simplest tasks, and how avoidant we are when faced with arguments?
Instead of building friendships on admiration, vulnerability opens a new and exciting way to friendship: sincere and honest compassion. Not that we should expect others to do the same, but more importantly, by showing our vulnerable side, we allow others to unburden theirs and therefore become more comfortable with their own struggles. It is a gift to others, a terryfying risk one can bravely take for their closest ones.
On our side, we allow ourselves to take distance from ourselves, to maybe start our own spiritual journey to self-development and to laugh at our own foolishness by celebrating our unique yet general weaknesses.
We also can develop self-pity, which, far from being an egoistic and narcissistic attempt to cry on our own problems, is just compassion extended to ourselves. Because we forget too often to be our own best friends.
In the end, vulnerability makes us stronger. Because it unravels maybe the only thing we look for on this planet: being, by ourselves and others, loved and accepted for what we truly are.