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We say we want love—the kind that feels soft and safe, the kind that makes the world less heavy.
We say we want connection—the kind that wraps around us like a favorite blanket, the kind that lets us exhale. But when the moment comes to bare our souls, to pull back the curtains and show the trembling, unpolished pieces of who we are, we hesitate.
We flinch.We pull away.We armor ourselves with silence and call it “strength.”
Because vulnerability, for so many of us, feels like a four-letter word.
We’ve been taught to see it as weakness. We’ve been warned of its dangers, recited stories that start with “Once upon a time” and end in betrayal:
“He took advantage of my vulnerability.”
“She preyed on men who were vulnerable to get what she wanted.”
“In my most vulnerable moment, the person I trusted turned their back on me.”
And so, we guard our hearts with steel walls and call it wisdom.
But what if we’ve misunderstood vulnerability all along?
Vulnerability Is Not the Villain
Vulnerability is not the weapon. It’s not the villain in those stories—it’s the truth.
It’s the courage to show up as your real self, not the version of you that’s curated for approval.
It’s the raw, unfiltered honesty that says, Here I am—flaws, fears, dreams, and all.
Does it hurt sometimes? Yes.
Does it sting when someone mishandles the gift of your openness? Absolutely.
But here’s the thing about vulnerability: It is the soil where love grows.
Without it, we’re only scratching the surface of connection. Without it, the relationships we long for remain dreams we never wake up to.
The Beauty in the Risk
Yes, vulnerability is risky. It asks you to take off your armor, knowing full well you might get bruised.But it’s also the doorway to something greater:
The moment someone holds your trembling hand and says, “Me too.”
The deep sigh of relief that comes when you’re fully seen and still loved.
The realization that love—real love—isn’t built on perfection, but on presence.
And here’s the truth we often forget: Not every story ends in heartbreak.
Some stories last. Some stories heal. And some stories don’t end at all.
But how will you ever know if you’re too afraid to open the book?
Discernment and Openness
Does this mean you should hand your heart to anyone who asks for it? Of course not. Discernment is the compass that keeps us steady. But don’t let the fear of “what if” stop you from experiencing the magic of “what could be.” Because the people who made vulnerability ugly for themselves don’t get to make it ugly for you.
A Gentle Reminder
Vulnerability isn’t a weakness. It’s a strength.It’s a soft, quiet kind of power that says: I’m brave enough to show up as myself.I’m strong enough to take the risk.I’m hopeful enough to believe in love.
So go ahead—open your heart. Take the chance.
Because the part of the story that never ends? That’s where the beauty lives.
Food for thought. Finish your plate so you can go be great ;)
P.S If you want to read about my journey through dating and relationships, you can click here and grab my books.
Sometimes just knowing that another woman has been where you are, and made it through can make all the difference in the world.
Much love,
