Being Unapologetically Me ~essay
Phew! This post has been a long time coming. So much for trying to write once per week :(.
No excuses, so let's just dive right into the deep end!
I've been thinking quite a bit lately about being unapologetically vulnerable...with others but also with yourself. The other day my housemate made a comment about how she feels like she needs to be strong in order to combat societal expectations that women are too soft and emotional. And I compleeeetely agree. Exiting college, I quickly realized there's this weird dance that adults do, where we're all wanting and seeking meaningful relationships, but no one wants to show their vulnerability first. We filter our words and suppress our feelings - maybe even try to persuade ourselves that we actually don't feel how we feel - all in an effort to convey a "chillness." (Sidenote: "chill" has easily become my least favorite word. What the hell does that even mean?)
I've always been a pretty emotional person. Maybe not outwardly (I'm not much of a crier...unless I'm binge-watching animal rescue vids on youtube, which happens admittedly a lot,) but I'm pretty adamant about being forthright with how I'm feeling. Yet, I've realized in my mid-twenties that this Open Book policy can be off-putting to a lot of people. I think it's because of some ingrained correlation between vulnerability and weakness, and no one wants to place themselves in a potentially compromising position. Especially as a woman, I know there's a (seemingly) conflicting desire to combat the "damsel in distress" archetype, which sometimes results in the building of an emotional wall.
In college I really tried to be tough and stomach all my concerns, hurt, confusion, and infatuation. I thought that to be strong I had to be closed off. But now I actually think vulnerability is empowering and liberating. It honestly takes guts to be authentic! The exposure of truths, intentions, and motivations is like an emblem of confidence and self-assurance, and presumably these revealing conversations open the gate for others to feel welcomed and accepted.
Maybe the hesitancy and discomfort with tenderness stem from mistrusting ourselves. Maybe a lot of the time we don't want to say what's on our mind because we think we shouldn't feel the way we do. Maybe we try to reason through our emotions too much, rather than just letting ourselves ride them out. I realized shortly after an intense depressive episode last year that a lot of my anxiety was the result of me actively trying to bury my feelings. I would start to feel a certain way; think, "That's dumb. This shouldn't bother you. Stop being dramatic;" and then try to distract myself with frivolous things. But why was I trying so hard to invalidate those feelings? Of course, feelings are subject to change, so we shouldn't up and act on them immediately, but we should definitely meditate on them more. Acknowledge the feelings, accept them, and either let them go or speak up once you realize they aren't evolving.
There's actually a Zooey Deschanel quote I'm absolutely obsessed with that sums up these ideas perfectly:
No excuses, so let's just dive right into the deep end!
I've been thinking quite a bit lately about being unapologetically vulnerable...with others but also with yourself. The other day my housemate made a comment about how she feels like she needs to be strong in order to combat societal expectations that women are too soft and emotional. And I compleeeetely agree. Exiting college, I quickly realized there's this weird dance that adults do, where we're all wanting and seeking meaningful relationships, but no one wants to show their vulnerability first. We filter our words and suppress our feelings - maybe even try to persuade ourselves that we actually don't feel how we feel - all in an effort to convey a "chillness." (Sidenote: "chill" has easily become my least favorite word. What the hell does that even mean?)
I've always been a pretty emotional person. Maybe not outwardly (I'm not much of a crier...unless I'm binge-watching animal rescue vids on youtube, which happens admittedly a lot,) but I'm pretty adamant about being forthright with how I'm feeling. Yet, I've realized in my mid-twenties that this Open Book policy can be off-putting to a lot of people. I think it's because of some ingrained correlation between vulnerability and weakness, and no one wants to place themselves in a potentially compromising position. Especially as a woman, I know there's a (seemingly) conflicting desire to combat the "damsel in distress" archetype, which sometimes results in the building of an emotional wall.
In college I really tried to be tough and stomach all my concerns, hurt, confusion, and infatuation. I thought that to be strong I had to be closed off. But now I actually think vulnerability is empowering and liberating. It honestly takes guts to be authentic! The exposure of truths, intentions, and motivations is like an emblem of confidence and self-assurance, and presumably these revealing conversations open the gate for others to feel welcomed and accepted.
Maybe the hesitancy and discomfort with tenderness stem from mistrusting ourselves. Maybe a lot of the time we don't want to say what's on our mind because we think we shouldn't feel the way we do. Maybe we try to reason through our emotions too much, rather than just letting ourselves ride them out. I realized shortly after an intense depressive episode last year that a lot of my anxiety was the result of me actively trying to bury my feelings. I would start to feel a certain way; think, "That's dumb. This shouldn't bother you. Stop being dramatic;" and then try to distract myself with frivolous things. But why was I trying so hard to invalidate those feelings? Of course, feelings are subject to change, so we shouldn't up and act on them immediately, but we should definitely meditate on them more. Acknowledge the feelings, accept them, and either let them go or speak up once you realize they aren't evolving.
There's actually a Zooey Deschanel quote I'm absolutely obsessed with that sums up these ideas perfectly:
Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah blah. Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things.
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