Courageous Vulnerability

I will never forget the first few times I sat in a circle of women, sharing what was on my heart with tears in my eyes and softness in my being.

Sharing some of the cobwebs of my humanness that had felt so shameful, isolating, and flawed.

My gaze lowered for much of my sharing, eventually lifting to meet compassionate, loving eyes. Tears welling in the eyes of other women as they recognized pieces of themselves in my story. That palpable feeling of familiarity and connection.

And the breath that followed, that deep exhale from a place in me that had long been buried.

I knew in those moments that I was definitely not alone.

That I was intertwined with these women, held in the arms of something much bigger than any one of us.

I also remember, with equal clarity, a moment when my vulnerability was not honored. When the openness that had taken so much courage to access was turned against me. I remember the impact of that breach, how it reverberated throughout my entire system, and the vow I made to myself in that moment.

I would never knowingly allow that to happen in the spaces I would one day create for other women.

I had experienced both the profound healing of being seen, heard, and honored in the tenderness of my humanity, and the deep harm that can occur when our vulnerability is mishandled. Both within a group and at the hands of teachers and mentors entrusted with holding that space.

These experiences helped shape what would eventually become my life's work: Gathering women in spaces of safety, authenticity, truth, empathy, and compassion. Spaces where we can lay down our armor, soften into our humanness, and be witnessed without judgment or shame.

And in these times, when heartbreak and fury seem to meet us week-after-week, I believe we need these spaces more than ever.

We need a release valve. A place to feel what we are feeling. To speak what is on our hearts. To unravel, rage, grieve, soften, and be held in the fullness of our humanity.

Within containers of safety and authenticity.

With respect and deep honoring.

With compassion, empathy, and non-judgmental witness.

Vulnerability is a muscle we build.

Most of us did not grow up having vulnerability modeled for us. If anything, we may have learned, directly or indirectly, that our emotions were not safe to feel or share.

And so, protective patterns developed. Stuffing, bottling, avoiding, suppressing, and numbing became ways of coping with emotions that felt too overwhelming or unsafe to experience.

For me, I became an addict...which led me into a loop of depression and anxiety.

The magnitude of my pain and the intensity of my emotions felt entirely too much to bear. I became addicted to food, substances, and various other ways of numbing and suppressing what was happening within me.

This journey ultimately led me into a residential treatment center, where I was stripped bare of many of the coping mechanisms I had relied upon for so long.

There I was, face-to-face with the all of the suppressed and buried feelings I had spent years upon years trying desperately not to feel.

And I was not alone.

I was surrounded by others who were also learning to sit with their pain, their shame, their stories, and the vulnerability of being human.

It was uncomfortable. Messy. Raw. At times excruciating.

And it was the beginning of a profound unraveling.

Nearly three decades later, that journey continues.

I have learned, practiced, fumbled, resisted, softened, and found my way into deeper layers of my vulnerable self, beyond the addictive patterns that once dictated so much of my life.

It has not been a linear path. Nor is it something I believe we ever fully arrive at. There is no end point but rather an ongoing exploration and unfurling of old messages, imprints, and ways of living, being, and relating.

It is an ongoing practice of learning to feel, to trust ourselves, to remain connected to our bodies and hearts, and to allow ourselves to be seen in the truth of who we are.

And now, I have the profound privilege of holding space for others to do the same.

To witness women as they gradually drop their armor, share the stories and feelings they have carried in isolation, and open themselves to new ways of living, being, and relating.

To create spaces where our humanness is not something to hide, fix, or apologize for.

Where our tenderness and strength can coexist.

Where we can feel the magnitude of our experiences without having to navigate them alone.

Your vulnerability, truth, and process are safe with me.

These are not simply words I offer. They hold profound meaning to me as a human and professional. They are embodied values that I have spent decades cultivating, practicing, and weaving into the fabric of my life and work.

We are not meant to carry the entirety of our human experience alone. We need  places and spaces where we can soften, unravel, feel, and be witnessed in the truth of who we are.

Where we can practice the courage of being fully human, together. 

And perhaps…in allowing ourselves to be seen, we begin to discover that the parts of ourselves that we have worked so hard to hide and diminish are the ones longing most for our own compassion and care.

Our relationship with ourselves is the most important piece of the whole puzzle. Take good care of your body, your heart, and your soul. Stay connected!