Vulnerability and Records

"You cannot selectively numb emotion.  When we numb the dark emotion, when we numb vulnerability and fear, we by default, numb joy." -- Brene Brown

I recently had conflict with my baby daddy and his woman.  I was so frustrated and angry, I cried...the ugly kind of crying. I had a complete meltdown while driving on River Road.  I'm sure my ugly crying got some curious looks.  Homegirl did not care.  I had some crying to do and my car has always been there for me in these times of need.  So stare on, friends.  I was talking to my close friend in the midst of my ugly crying episode.  She unpacked the pain of what I was feeling with me.  And after lots of blubbering and snot, I found that underneath the anger and frustration was the familiar feelings of dismissal and insignificance.

I'm not sure when I started playing that record to myself, but somewhere along the way it began.  And we became good friends.  It was my most favorite record to play.

I felt dismissed every time I had an event and no one showed up for me.  I felt dismissed every time I cried and no one validated my tears.  I felt dismissed every time I got angry and had no one to be angry with me.  I felt dismissed when I tried to communicate with my husbands and got nothing but blank stares and occasionally laughter at my tears.  I felt dismissed when I tried to connect with my step daughter and was met with anger and silence.  I tried to change the story with behaviors.  I became a boss to multiple employees so someone had to listen to me.  I became an avid runner, running ten miles a day at times, though I hated every mile after mile 3.   My behaviors were all intended to numb me the hell out.  There are multiple ways in which to numb.  All equally effective.  Alcohol, sex, medications, drugs, exercise, staying extremely busy...pick your poison and welcome to the Land of NUMB.

Over the past few months, I have been intentionally interrupting behaviors that cause me to numb out.  It has not been fun, friends.  Ugly crying has ensued.  Years of pain finally caught up with me.  Pain can outrun the fastest runner.  It eventually catches your ass.  And after it caught me, we wrestled.  And I learned the vast importance of knowing the truth about who I am.

Homegirl won that wrestling match.

The truth is that I am worthy.  My worth does not depend on anyone's validation but the One who created me.  I am loved.  I am not alone.  I have an infinite capacity for joy because my Creator is Himself joy.  I have the infinite capacity for gratitude because He Himself is gratitude.  I have the infinite capacity to love others even when they don't reciprocate because He Himself is unreciprocated love.  That's His jam.

I have the infinite capacity to be completely vulnerable because the net beneath me is solid.  And catching me is something He will never tire of.

Vulnerability is not a fun practice.  It demands honesty.  It demands courage.  It demands your whole self, exposed, raw, open to any and all manner of torment.  It leaves you wide open to the elements.  But it also opens up the chambers of your heart to experience raw, unadulterated joy.

I was wholly vulnerable with my friend in the midst of my breakdown.  She met me where I was.  She accepted me for who I was.  She provided me with a safe place for my vulnerability.  She was able to look at me with complete love and acceptance even when I was ugly crying, complete with snot and tears and red splotches.  Without that raw vulnerability that she met so beautifully with love and acceptance, I would not have been able to identify the NEED I was seeking.

I NEEDED to be heard.  I NEEDED my opinion on the subject to be considered.  I NEEDED to speak for my boys as their mother.  I NEEDED their dad and his girlfriend to ask me for advice.  I NEEDED them to tell me I was worthy enough to be heard because I was a great mother. 

Pause for dramatic effect.  Homegirl needed two people who quite possibly hate her more than anyone on the planet to validate her.

Now that I'm in this space of living life without my behaviors that numb me, vulnerability is the gig.  Without my friend who was on the phone with me and who allowed me to wallow in vulnerability,  I would not have been able to understand why I had such an intense reaction.  (Side Note: I hope you have a friend like this...if not, I may be able to put my friend on retainer for you.  She's pretty great at embracing ugly crying homegirls.)   I would not have been able to identify that I was feeling dismissed and unheard.   I would not have been able to see this most favorite record that had been playing all my life.  I would not have been able to identify a false belief that I had about myself and replace it with Truth.

I may have numbed myself for years from feeling fear and pain, but this numbing of the hard emotions also numbed the joy that could have been.  And I'm done missing out on joy.

So vulnerability it is.  In all its scariness and ominousness.  Without it I would not have been able to uncover the lies and replace them with truth.   And finally take the needle off the damn record.


The Price of Invulnerability by Brene Brown