Vulnerability: One Year From Now
12.12.23 | 29205
For Reflection:
When you reflect on your life, when have you been most comfortable being vulnerable? What contributed to that feeling?
Have you ever felt nervous about being vulnerable, but still chose to open up anyway? How did you feel afterward?
What circumstances do you need to be vulnerable with others?
What do you hope to receive from others when you are vulnerable with them?
I officially put this project out into the world one year ago today. I took my bottled up emotions, laid them bare on paper, and put a link on the internet for others to read: thezipcodeproject.com. For far too long, I felt as though others wouldn’t relate to the thoughts and feelings rolling around in my head. I worried that nobody else experienced the kind of imposter syndrome that I did. I wondered if anybody else wished that our world were not so preoccupied with productivity and progress. Was it really just me?
The answer to that question became clear so very quickly: no. No, I’m not the only one who’s frustrated with this culture. In fact, many of you wrote me messages saying that you, too, wished you had more time with your thoughts and more permission to rest. My simple choice to put those thoughts out into the world brought more reassurance than I ever could have expected. My vulnerability – the moment when I felt more alone than I almost ever do – brought me into true connection with my community.
The truth is that these days are hard. Since October, most days have felt like a struggle. So, so many of those with whom I am in community are grieving the loss of life and livelihood in Gaza. And yet, we are asked to keep moving, to keep working, to be productive, to make progress. Rather than be fully present with each other in the hardest of times, many of us push through. It is exhausting. And without more deeply connecting with the people around us, we often fail to meet our mutual needs.
As I move into the end of this year, I am intentionally stepping back from responsibilities. I am choosing to hold space for the “unproductive” moments. And in the spaces that emerge between the things I have to do, I am pursuing vulnerability.
Being vulnerable with others – sharing your experience even when it is scary to do so – leads to a sort of disarmament. I believe I have always known this, to some degree, but it has been reinforced in the past few weeks. In our society, people don’t expect you to be honest, to share your genuine feelings, to skip the formalities in favor of true connection. But my experience launching this website, getting to know new people in my new home, and sharing grief about the state of our world have all reminded me that just because others don’t expect vulnerability from you does not mean that they won’t accept it. Sometimes, others are looking for permission. And if we model vulnerability, they might open up, too.
A year ago, when I started this project, I didn’t know where it would go. But today, others share what’s on their hearts and minds with me more fully (not necessarily because of what they read from me online, but because this practice of writing has brought me into greater vulnerability in my daily life, too). And so I wonder: what if we all chose to be more vulnerable today? Where would we be a year from now?
Until next time, friends.