Victory in Vulnerability

3.png

Have you ever been so afraid to do something that the fear seems to paralyze you from moving forward? If your answer is “Yes,” then you know exactly how I feel right now.

I want to tell this story. My story. The story of my journey to therapy, what it has given me the tools to do, and how I’m moving forward from here. But man oh man is this hard for me. It is hard for me to be this vulnerable anywhere with anyone, but I want to, so badly. So here’s to trying my best…


About a year ago, my world got rocked when God gave me the best “No” ever. Because of this, “No,” I walked into winter break with nothing to do but learn to really rest. During those four weeks, I learned to love the idea of loving myself just as much as I love everyone else in my life. Not only was this journey incredibly tough for me to start, but it’s a choice I have to make each and every day to continue. Part of the decision to love me meant that I was finally ready to see a therapist.

On January 28th, I walked into Warren-Alexander for the first time. My visit was nothing out of the ordinary. We didn’t solve all my problems in that first 50-minute session, but what did happen was that for the first time in my life, I was willing to take steps toward the direction of taking care of me. That Monday afternoon changed me forever because it taught me that I could really do this. I could take time for me and still find time for everything else. I could love my people, check everything off my to-do list and still lean into rest (even just for a moment) without wondering if my world would continue to spin.

Week after week, I sat in front of Mary, my therapist, and we walked through my treatment plan. I showed up to therapy and knew the one thing I wanted to develop was coping mechanisms. I had settled on this idea because every time life has knocked me on my butt, it felt like my world turned upside down, and I wanted so much to be able to navigate that in a positive and healthy way.

So that’s where we started.

Mary introduced me to Mindfulness, and at first, I thought it was all complete BS. Mindfulness is essentially the practice of being aware of your surroundings and yourself. Mary taught me that a state of mindfulness can often be achieved with intentional deep breathing. But I definitely had my doubts about how much deep breaths could really help. Thankfully, I was way off base. Mindfulness has been one of the greatest tools I’ve been able to utilize to help keep me centered in the most turbulent of times, and I plan on taking those deep breaths forever.

But then things got interesting…

One afternoon, I walked into my session, and Mary says that she has something new for us to talk about. She asked me if I had ever heard the term vulnerability. From there, we talked about what I knew about vulnerability and what I thought it meant. Then she asked me to imagine the most vulnerable creature I could think of, instantly I thought of a baby bunny. From what I know, baby bunnies are virtually helpless the first few weeks of their lives, entirely at the mercy of their environment and relying solely on the momma bunny. After deciding this was my definition of vulnerability, I realized it scared the hell out of me. And as we made our way through our discussion, Mary asked me, “What would it take for you to be baby bunny?” I was struck by the oddity of the question and then struck by the fact that I didn’t know how to answer. My first and really only thought was, “I don’t want to be baby bunny, my goal is to stay as far away from that as humanly possible.”

And there it was.

My fear of vulnerability materialized, and for the first time, I was faced with what I’ve been running from my entire life…letting my walls down. It’s funny because I’ve spent the last decade perfecting the fortress around my heart in hopes that I could protect the tenderness inside my soul. But the problem with that is what’s been keeping other people out is what has kept me in.

I built my walls so tall and so thick that even the strongest of my relationships couldn’t even begin to break them down. And for the most part, I live a quiet and safe life hiding from the world behind my walls, all the while, using every position, association, and title I’ve ever held as reinforcement. In a later session, Mary asked me, “If you aren’t baby bunny, who are you?” and that answer was easy, “I’m Momma Bear.”

One of my absolute most favorite blessings in life is getting to pour into people, to love them intentionally, and to meet them where they are; essentially, I become the Momma Bear of my friends and loved ones. I am someone people can come to when they need advice. I’m a shoulder to cry on when life hits a little too hard. I am someone who always listens first. I’m an encourager and motivator and even sometimes a kick in the pants if necessary. Being Momma Bear is so sweet because I have a purpose. I have meaning in the lives of the people I love so deeply, and I’m needed.

And then Mary asked, “What if you weren’t Mamma Bear?”

My response, “What if the world stops turning?” But in all seriousness, the reality of my answer is truly devastating…I. Have. No. Idea.

Or at least, I didn’t.

The cool thing about vulnerability is when we take the mask off, when the walls come down, we find there is a beautiful soul created by a beautiful God that gets to be set free. I’m learning vulnerability isn’t something that can be learned while we keep our guard up; this is one of those kinesthetic learning experiences God gives us. So while I searched for myself over the last year, I found that to learn about me, to dive into the depths of my heart, I had to be vulnerable, and that is HARD. It’s hard to be vulnerable at the Cross, in my therapist’s office, in my relationships, and with myself.

Yet still, my question goes unanswered, “Who am I if I’m not Momma Bear?” A year and lots of self-discovery later, the answer becomes easier. Easier to stomach and ultimately to speak life into the answer I have for you is…Me. I get to be the person God created me to be. Brené Brown puts it this way, “Vulnerability is having the courage to show up and be seen.” To be seen for who I am. Unafraid and unhindered by the Truth that the God of all Creation has spoken about who I am. The sweetest part about this, I still get to my love people! I just needed to learn that the weight of the world is not my burden to bear. Jesus stands in the gaps and takes up the slack. So that means that through my mess and mess-ups in school, jobs, relationships, and Kingdom work—through it all I get to be me. And, I get to realize it is no longer my job to hold up my mask and the world because neither of those responsibilities was ever part of God’s plan to begin with.

I do want to caution you. All of this victory in vulnerability doesn’t mean that every day is a fought and won battle. It doesn’t mean that I’m picture perfectly vulnerable either. It absolutely means that I’m still a work in progress, that I’m doing my very best to dismantle my fortress, brick by brick. It means that I have to chip away at my mask every day. Victory in vulnerability does not mean that my heart gushes open to every person I meet, it means my victories are small, simple, and slowly but surely becoming reoccurring.

The other thing about vulnerability is that it takes more than just me. Victories in vulnerability mean step one is breaking down the walls, but step two means we have to find a way to let the people we really love seeing what’s behind them. The journey to vulnerability isn’t one we can take alone, we tend to get swallowed by the mountain of insurmountable self-doubt and old habits if left to our own devices. This is why it’s important to be real about where we are and where we want to go, even if it’s hard. But let me tell you, I could never have survived the journey without my battle buddies. They have stood by me, protected me, cried with me, cheered me on, and dragged me along every now and again. But I know that without them in my corner, this last year would not have been as sweet and my future not as bright because of the people that choose to see me.

When it is all said and done, vulnerability is messy, scary, hard, and yet it is so worth it. Learning to love myself in a way that allows me to breathe deeper and love my people better is a gift so magnificent that it could only come from the Father. Understanding that I am stronger when I’m vulnerable is one of the best nuggets of wisdom, I should have listened to years ago. So tonight, I pray that you get to dip your toes into the chilly waters of vulnerability in hopes that eventually even one of your feet can adjust to the temperature. My greatest wish for you is to try a taste of vulnerability and then try it again because I know the first bite can be tough to swallow.

You can do it! I am living proof that vulnerability won’t kill you.

One of the best things I decided to do after I stoped treatment was to keep a note in my phone called Vulnerability Victories. In this note is a bulleted list of times in my life when I trusted deeper, was scared more than I wanted to be, and dove into vulnerability anyway. These victories have shown me that putting one foot in front of the other is the only way we learn how to walk. If you are ready to take the first step, remember, Jesus is there, holding your hand every step of the way.

Lord, you deserve all the praise for this transformation. By your Spirit, we get to live out your purpose for our lives. Because of your Son, we get to be washed in grace we do not deserve. This stuff is tough. To be vulnerable feels like welcoming hurt and destruction in our lives, but you teach us that is brings strength and power to the love you put within us. Thank you for sweet victories and sweeter friends that go to battle alongside us. Thank you for the Cross and standing in our gaps.

In Your Son’s Name. Amen.

All my love,

Kaitlyn