It's been two weeks since recruitment ended. It's been two weeks since my days were full of forced conversations and small talk. It's been two weeks since I had endless conversations about my summer, my major, my experiences at college and in Greek life. And I have not fully recovered yet. For the first week of classes, I couldn't quite figure out why I felt so tired, so exhausted, so antisocial. The second week of classes was different, though. I realized why I felt so drained every second of the day even though I was staying well rested. I had experienced two weeks, work week and recruitment, full of meeting amazing girls. However, in those two weeks, it was a constant circle of five-minute conversations in which I knew almost nothing more than a face and a neat hobby. I had been lacking authenticity for two weeks. I had been lacking vulnerability for two weeks. My heart was yearning for deeper conversation and to know people better than just their major, hometown, and activities.
This all makes sense to me because we were made to be known. We, humans, were designed for community. Isolation kills. Even though I was surrounded by friends during recruitment, I was isolated in the respect that there were no truly deep conversations. Every day was different, yet every day was the same. Every conversation was new, yet every conversation left me more tired than if I was to pour my heart out to someone. Starting the second week of classes, I could feel such a deep need for depth in my life. I needed that vulnerability. I needed to know the people around me. I had reached a point of not even wanting to talk to people I had just met outside of recruitment. This wasn't my character. I couldn't quite figure out why I had zero desire to get to know new people.
Today, while sitting in church, I realized the deep need for a community that I could confide in. I couldn't deal with the surface level conversations that consumed my day. I needed to have a conversation better than how my day was. I wanted to know more than just "good." With little shallow conversations, I am unable to get things off of my chest. Things can pile up throughout the week and without someone to confide in, I feel too weighed down to be healthy. It is so important to let people into your life and see the parts of you that stay in the shadows on most days. They're the kind of people who accept you with ice cream, cookies, and open arms after one of the worst days of your life. They're the people who know you at your worst but are then able to fully love you at your best.
Without authenticity, I would be driven crazy by the basic five-minute, we-barely-know-each-other-but-if-you-ask-we're-"best friends" conversations. Without vulnerability, I wouldn't know how to fully love because vulnerability leads to being broken hearted for your friends and thus fully loving them in their time of need.
Vulnerability and authenticity can reshape the world we currently live in. Or without it we could all be driven more into the antisocial, self-absorbed path that we're on.
