When I was 16 or so, Cobra Starship released their album “Hot Mess.” The cover featured a girl with “hot mess” tattooed on her lower lip. Lip tattoos were one of the many terrible fads that I wanted to take part in during my teen years. Although I never actually found a tattoo artist who would agree to tattoo my lip (Thank God, am I right?), I thought about what word I would want to be inked onto my body. The word I felt best described me was “fearless.”
If you know me, then you know that’s ridiculous. I just posted about my travel anxiety last week. You can catch me on any given day talking about my fear of the future. I fear a lot of little things, and I’m OK with admitting them. My bigger fears are harder for me to admit.
I want to be fearless. I want to be resilient, and I would like to think in some ways that I am. The problem is I repress all of my deeper fears, thinking that they will make me weak. I pretend like I don’t think about losing my parents every day, that growing up doesn’t scare the sh*t out of me because I’m planning on moving 2,500 miles away from my family and that 90 percent of the time I work so hard because I don’t want people to forget about me.
All of these fears are valid. I just never talk about them because I feel that fear is for the weak. Being vulnerable has never been my strong suit, but pretending that I’m not afraid is worse than being vulnerable.
Last weekend, I drove out to the beach to check out the full moon. I sat there in the sand and just emotionally lost it. The week prior was stressful. One of my closest friends is going through a hard time in her life and I felt scared for her. After just talking to God about it, all of these other concerns just started coming out. Things I think I knew I was afraid of, but never confronted. I didn’t realize how many fears were living in my body waiting to be faced.
After an hour of looking like a crazy person crying in the sand by myself, I felt better than I had in weeks. None of my problems were solved. They are still problems, but at least I let myself bask in a little bit of vulnerability for a while.
It’s okay to have emotions – it means you are a normal, functioning human being. There is strength in acknowledging your fears. Pretending they don’t exist will only hurt yourself. I will leave you with this quote:
“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren't always comfortable but they are never weakness.” -- Brene Brown