A Practice in Vulnerability.

“I love you,” I told the naked body reflecting back at me.

My dog stared up at me, head tilted and ears perked, likely feeling just as unsure as I did.

Despite our reservations, I continued: “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Maybe I’d lost my mind. Or maybe I was finally beginning to find it.

A decade of disassociating from my body and feeling unworthy of joy or love had led me here, in front of my mirror, faking it until I made it out of the cold, dark hole I dug for myself years ago.

It was a practice in vulnerability, a practice of self-love, a practice that began when I first recognized the value of showing up authentically in the world—fears, tears, and all.

After a classmate passed in college, I found myself sitting with a group of early twenty-somethings in mourning. Though most of us were strangers, we cried, offered stories, and simply honored whatever emotions moved through us, connecting in a way that went beyond our mutual friend’s passing. We felt seen, heard, and understood in a way I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. And it all started with allowing ourselves to be vulnerable.

Author Brené Brown describes vulnerability as a gateway to both love and connection. As she writes,

“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”

Exploring the darkness is neither easy nor fun. Brown doesn’t claim it will be. But discovering the light that awaits us at the end is worth it. Every. Single. Time. Practicing vulnerability is one way to help us get there.

Unsure where to begin? Start by listing your fears. Then set a plan of action for addressing them, one by one, in a way that feels safe and nurturing. Some suggestions:

For greater intimacy: Prolong eye contact with a loved one or, if it feels okay, with a stranger. Share your need for human touch or satisfy that need for someone else.

For public speaking practice: Schedule a conversation, in person, with someone you trust about something that fuels your fire. Check out your local Toastmasters or public speaking Meetup.

For healing trauma: Share your feelings and emotional experiences with others, even when it might seem unexpected, and listen—really listen—as others share theirs.

For greater connection: Attend a community gathering with others who are mourning, celebrating, or simply sharing the experience of being human. Take a dance class, practice yoga, or go for a walk, sans phone.

Or, consider the step-by-step list that helped transform my life:

Find a cool mirror.

Hang it in your home.

Stand in front of it for at least five minutes. Clothing optional.

Gaze into your eyes, and resist the desire to look away.

Repeat your self-love mantra of choice. Options include: “I love you.” “You are beautiful.” “You are worthy.” “My ideas matter.” “I matter.” First person, third person, whatever works.

Rinse and repeat.

Vulnerability might not be the key to all our problems, but if it helps us make peace with the parts of ourselves shrouded in shame and fear and realize we’re more alike than we are different, it’s not a bad place to start.

We all ugly cry. Sometimes we just need a friend (or pet) to hold our hand while we do it.

Author: Liz Getman
Image: Author’s Own
Editor: Emily Bartran

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