There’s this tension that I’ve lived with all my life: the ache to be seen and be known, the terror of being exposed and vulnerable.
As I've grown older, as I’ve connected with more and more kindred spirits and experienced what it is to be exposed and vulnerable in safety, met with emotional hospitality, I’ve felt that tension begin to ease.
It feels less scary or strange to do something like this: film myself, record my thoughts.
There still echo of that old fear whenever I feel like I’ve overshared and am not immediately, overwhelmingly validated. I still wake up with a vulnerability hangover.
I’m in a particularly tender place in my life right now. In September I lost my job and am now happily floundering — which is to say that I have no idea what I’m doing. I can no longer hide behind the comfort of secure employment. I’ve been gifted more time with my kids. More time to explore my creativity, like my love of music, drawing, writing, gardening, pressing flowers, and making things like this. I’ve been gifted the freedom to become more fully myself.
My hope is to figure out if art and music are things that can help support my family. And my sincerest wish is to extend emotional hospitality to you. If you want to connect or follow along, please do.
I have a monthly newsletter — The Wallflower Club. I’d love for you to join.
Comments