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mysoulbalmmh · 4 years ago

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Hard things break, soft things bend. What would you share with the world if you could be truly vulnerable?

This is probably my favorite affirmative quote because it has a deeper meaning for me.

TL;DR - I spent so much of my life trying to be ultra tough so I wouldn't get hurt. It broke me. Now that I'm safe and healing, I'm relying on vulnerability to connect with the world and seeing it as a strength instead of a weakness.

Long read: TW death, tough emotional themes.

You see, I spent a lot of my life being tough.

My first memory of this need to be hard and emotionless was watching my father die.

While everyone around me sobbed, saying their last goodbye, I didn't shed a tear.

Not because I didn't care. I was the saddest I've ever been in my life.

But as I looked around, I realized someone had to be tough in order for us to survive. And somehow, at age 6, I figured that person had to be me.

From then on, I pushed my feelings down. I eschewed childish things (I can vividly remember telling my young self "no more Happy Meals" because they were not for big kids).

I stubbornly did the hardest things possible and wouldn't ask for help. I got in physical fights to prove how tough I was and landed in detention or the principals office weekly (sometimes daily).

As an adult, I took on jobs, sports, and challenges that pushed me FAR beyond what I was realistically capable of.

I stayed in relationships I shouldn't have because I could "handle" anything.

If you haven't guessed it yet, all of this ridiculousness led to frequent meltdowns in private (and sometimes public).

Because inside, I'm as soft as a puddle of puppies. Deeply emotional, highly sensitive, and incredibly empathic. Stuffing all that down was a recipe for disaster.

In my late 20's the emotional levy finally broke and all of my bravado got washed away.

You'd think it'd feel better to not have to carry the burden of strength. You'd be wrong.

I was no longer the strong, brave, determined girl who could take on anything. Sure I was getting better, but I'd lost my entire identity in the process.

I felt weak, vulnerable, exposed, imperfect, unsafe. And I was angry about it. How was I going to deal with this unkind world without the armor of toughness I'd always worn?

The first few years after my hospitalization were some of the hardest in my life. I lashed out at those who loved me. I was convinced that now that they could see the real me, I'd be abandoned.

I stubbornly tried to use the same crappy coping mechanisms as I had before (overworking, controlling, pushing myself in sports).

But they just, didn't work anymore. I kept losing jobs because my mental health wouldn't let me keep up. My husband was at his wits end with me over my controlling behavior. My body just flat out said NO when it came to sports.

I was totally, utterly broken. And that was my lowest point.

Something had to change. And since I couldn't rely on toughness anymore, I had to figure something else out.

I gradually found that being vulnerable and radically honest with others and myself worked astonishingly well. While it felt natural, affirming, and sustainable, being vulnerable was difficult.

It was hard to tell the truth after a lifetime of lies about myself. I struggled with it daily.

At the beginning vulnerability seemed a lot like weakness. How was I supposed to humble myself in front of people when they could hurt me?

How would people view me, the one with all the answers, when I didn't know something. I knew they would attack.

I was terrified. I screwed it up. A lot. But I kept trying anyway.

And some people did hurt me (that's where I learned about boundaries). But for the most part, when I revealed my true heart, even previously "difficult" people seemed to be softened. They started to listen. I started to learn from them as well.

These days, I'm still a work in progress. But I don't walk with the unsustainable weight of toughness so much. And life is vastly better for it.

Things I can do now that I lead with vulnerability

-I can ask for help (most of the time)

-I can have wonderful, affirming talks with people I would have avoided before.

-I can have difficult conversations and not be afraid

-I can tell people how I feel and create understanding instead of resentment or anger

And so much more.

Hard things break, soft things bend.

So finally, why does this quote mean so much to me? The first time I came across it was two days after I got out of the hospital. I was raw, tired, scared, angry, and emotional - all the things I didn't want to feel.

I tried so hard to push the feelings away like I had before.

But when I saw this quote just by chance, something clicked. It all made so much sense. It made me think of bad storms I'd seen in Florida, my home. Trees that bowed in the wind survived to live another day. Trees that were incapable of bending were torn out by the roots.

And it hit me. I was being torn out by my roots. My behavior was keeping me stuck. It was time to try something new.

That was the day my life truly changed for good.

How about you? How do the powers of toughness and vulnerability play into your mental health journey? Who are you without the mask you've created?

Much Love,

MB

Image description: A big lined crystal patch sits against a magenta background. It has a circle around it and the words "hard things break, soft things bend" and "vulnerability is strength" underneath it. Two hands holding moons appear on either side.

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mysoulbalmmh · 4 years ago

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