Vulnerability Is One Of The Hardest Things To Master

A few weeks ago, I pulled out my gratitude journal, intending to write a few sentences about something I was grateful for, and all I could come up with was “The patch of grass in our front yard that’s been dying from a fungus looks better…”

Oh dear.

At that time, I had been taking a week-long ride on the struggle bus. I’m feeling much better now. But that was not the case then. But here I am on the other side. I made it through the hard days and have officially entered the post-crisis mode of Whew, that’s better, and thank goodness that’s over.

I won’t bore you with details except to say that life decided to stack all its heavy days in a row.

Instead, I want to talk about the question “How are you?”

It’s funny how conditioned we are to respond to that question in a somewhat untruthful way. I was talking with a friend during a particularly rough day -  a friend who was privy to the nonsense I was struggling with - and the first thing she asked when she saw me was, “How are you doing?” and I automatically answered, “Good.”

Except at that moment, I wasn't “good.”

It was such a ridiculous, automatic non-answer. I regrouped for a few seconds, corrected myself despite all the social politeness warning bells going off in my head, and then said, “It hasn’t been my best week.”

It was an honest answer, but saying it made me feel uncomfortable.

Why? Because being honest when things aren’t going well means being vulnerable, and I’m starting to believe experiencing vulnerability is one of the hardest things in the entire world to do.

A lot of the time, it’s easier and less scary just to say, “I’m fine!” keep things light and breezy, and ask about nail color recommendations instead of being like, “Please enjoy the hot mess that is me today.”

Sometimes I need to remind myself that real human connections require feeling brave enough to loosen the armor around my terrified inner self, and allowing myself to feel less guarded. I also need to work at ignoring all my avoidance techniques (Besides defaulting to “I’m fine,” there’s also the humor deflection, interrogating the other person as deflection, and keeping my calendar so full I don’t have time to sit still and feel vulnerable.)

We don’t form close relationships by using every safety measure. We form close relationships through honesty and openness.

So, the next time someone asks how I’m doing, I’m going to skip the automatic "fine.” Then I’m going to step outside my comfort zone, and let the real answer slip through (minus dramatics). It might feel risky, but I’m thinking that tiny bit of exposure could be the bridge that turns a polite exchange into a genuine human connection.

After all, the best conversations - and the people worth keeping close - don't follow a script.

So here’s to giving real answers to the polite questions.

Within reason, and depending on who I’m talking to, of course.