“Sharing the story of your horrific divorce on Facebook where your children, who are reeling in pain because of said divorce, can read about it, is not vulnerability... You don’t share your stories with people who have not earned the right to hear them... You only share your stories with people who have earned the right to hear them... Vulnerability minus boundaries is not vulnerability...” -Brene Brown

This is news. This is new.

There is a dark, other side of vulnerability.

I swear, the universe provides me with chapters of information—-units of study.

Part of my Somatica (relationship/sex/intimacy) training was to define a clear boundary that I hold.

I’ve never done this before.

I thought boundaries were for people who had something to hide. I thought I wasn’t allowed to hide anything if I was gonna be real.

Through quivering lips, and a shaky voice of debilitating anxiety that feels like an overfull balloon in the back of my throat, I’ve stood on this metaphoric stage and screamed in the faces on innocent pedestrians, all concerned with their own problems, and demanding—-this is me, take it or leave it.

And most people have left it.

I was trying to be brave.

And I feel nothing but rejected.

My improv troupe and I had a disagreement about the artistic direction of our project. They wanted to define how vulnerable is too vulnerable, and I felt alone, weird, and restricted, thinking——none. All vulnerability is good vulnerability.


I’m overcompensating? Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know if my boundaries and just bigger than the rest of the world, or if I am hiding behind vulnerability with…openness.

I’m trying to stand in front of this broken world and show you all my scars, but you don’t seem to want to see them. And I am tired of blaming you. I am tired of being mad at the rest of the world for being scared of me.

I think I am putting up a wall and calling it vulnerability.
The wall of all my flaws you haven’t earned the right to see yet.

At first, quitting seemed like a fear based decision, but now I think it’s growth. I think it’s me finding a boundary. I think it’s me pushing the limits of what is safe, so I can define myself——my art, my writing, my love, my connectedness with the rest of the world. I think I am finding real trust. Not based in fear, but based on communication. I think it’s me searching for an audience who I can trust so I can stop hating them for not understanding me.

So I’m not going to do this anymore.