...But, I'm scared.

How many times have you had the intention of doing something only to let your fear squash you? Maybe you wanted to go for a dream, but you talked yourself out of it saying, "..but I'm scared". Or perhaps you wanted to reconcile a relationship or get something heavy off of your chest, but instead you buried it even further down and convinced yourself that you were too scared to carry it through.

I've been there. Honestly, I am there now. I am fearful that I will push friends away through the start of this new business, though honest to God, I want everyone just to feel the joy that this endeavor has brought to me. (It has already changed me SO much, but I digress). I am fearful because I know that I am not always a good mom or wife. I am fearful that my marriage goes into a really hard place more often than not. I am fearful of what people will remember for after I leave this earth. I am fearful that I doubt God's goodness sometimes. I am fearful of opening my big mouth and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.  I am fearful that my stints with depression will creep back in and cripple me again, especially if we have more children. My list of fears is infinite and it would take me days to list them all. Perhaps, you can relate.

I have learned over the past few years, especially within the past two, that vulnerability is so much more powerful than "looking nice". What do I mean? Simply put, life is hard. Marriage is hard, HARD work. Friends require a lot of commitment and effort, sometimes more than I'm willing to give. Parenting is unlike any other thing I've ever experienced and while joyful, it is often overwhelming. Staying true to yourself, while also wanting to be liked can often be hard waters to navigate. Being honest with yourself and others, without fear of being judged, is growing increasingly more difficult as technology advances. See, so many of us (actually I'm willing to bet every one of us) struggles with one or multiple things on this list. It's just human nature. But lately, I've been VERY challenged on the idea of vulnerability.

I have always considered myself to be a pretty vulnerable, honest person. Do you agree with me on that? I don't really ever try to hide my struggles. I don't try to sugar coat things because honestly, hiding behind hard times is more work than sharing your hard things with others. What you see is 9 times out of 10 what you get with me. Notice I didn't say 10 out of 10. See, there are SOME things that are very difficult to open up about, especially when they involve other people that are close to me. But you know what? People are craving vulnerability. They are so hungry for it. They are attracted to it. Why? Because it busts open a door that's been bolted shut, it breaks down walls, and it builds relationships. Vulnerability is contagious, friends. It's usually not pretty; it's actually quite ugly most times, but sometimes that's just a risk you have to be willing to take. Peoples lives, marriages, kids, relationships, physical appearance, homes...all of that may look nice, but honestly, it's breaking our hearts. Social media and technology, while so helpful in many ways, have jaded our perception of reality. It puts a filter over real life. When I have an "ugly day" as I sometimes call them, I put a filter on my pictures. I may look like a hot mess, but toss a black and white filter over it and I'm good as new. Be honest, you know exactly what I'm talking about. In reality, I don't actually do that all that much, but my point is that THAT is how easy it is to "hide" the hard parts of our lives to keep others from truly seeing us. The struggles. The pain. The heartache. The doubt. The fear. Vulnerability and transparency are the only way to prove to ourselves and others that life isn't all rainbows + sunny days, and that even though we all suffer, we can suffer well, if we do it together.

Allow me to take off the filter for a minute and to go to a place of extreme vulnerability and fear: my marriage. Out of respect for my husband and the particular things we've experienced, I won't divulge too much information. But please don't mistake that for my trying to cover anything up because this is the opposite of that. My husband and I have been married for 6 years. In fact, we just went on a vacation to celebrate that milestone. Be real people, every day is a milestone when it comes to living with another person and trying to put their well-being above your own. Am I right? We had a spectacular wedding, an okay honeymoon (I had major food poisoning for most of it), and we have a beautiful home + daughter. We laugh. We cry. We work hard. But you know what? We argue...a lot, like probably at least once a day...at least. We don't like each other many times. We have deeply hurt one another both with words and deeds. We have been in the trenches and we've been tested + tempted more than I'd like to admit. Usually, we make up fairly quickly, but often we go to bed angry and stay that way for days, whether we admit to it or not. We may not have life altering illnesses, or tragic experiences, but we have ridden on an emotional rollercoaster during these 6 years. We have fought for our marriage every day. And honestly, there have even been days when staying committed to our vows was near impossible. We have suffered, sometimes one of us more than the other. We have made major mistakes and we have forgiven one another. We have called each other names and we have regretted it. We have walked out, only to walk back in realizing the hurt we've caused the other. And these are only a few things...

See? Vulnerability is awkward. It's uncomfortable in many ways. It's scary terrifying, actually. Being transparent with you, especially through a screen is almost harder than being transparent to your face. I can't read your reaction as you read through my words. I can't feel the emotion you feel as you scan the screen. I can't tell if you've been there or if you are secretly judging me. I don't know what you are thinking or feeling and that's a little scary for me. But, at the risk of ever appearing "fake" or like we have the "perfect life/marriage/child/appearance/etc", I want you to know that life happens to us every single day. Hard times hit when we least expect them. Temptations come and we succumb. No one ever promised to make life, let alone marriage, a walk in the park. Though some days, maybe a walk in the park wouldn't be such a bad idea. Even though I have like a katrillion social media sites, wonderful friends, a supportive husband, and a usually darling little girl, my journey through this life the past couple years has been far, FAR, far from perfect. It's been messy, really messy. It's been eye-opening. It's been life-altering, truthfully. I am a different person than I was just 3 years ago. Things have transpired both in myself as an individual and in my marriage that have deeply changed me and affected me. I have reached out to friends in ways I never have before. I have sought counsel and guidance and I have learned that trying to mask what's really happening in and to you does not positively influence you or those around you. If anything, the times I've been in my most vulnerable states have been the times when God has brought me the greatest encouragement. Whether that be through friendship, acts of kindness, reassuring words, a song, or a job opportunity (as of recently). I truly, truly believe that what connects us at the core is our ability to be vulnerable in our weakest moments. Never have I ever felt more connected to my friends, my husband, or my Savior than when I was at such a weak point that I was simply just unsure of what to do other than be vulnerable. It will always, always, always involve risk, but I have found that the reward has always been worth the risk, even if it's not the reward I was picturing. When we are transparent, we let people in. We encourage others in knowing that they are not alone. We trample walls that we didn't even know existed. When we are vulnerable with one another (even if it's just one person), we allow ourselves the freedom to just be; free from pressure, judgement, heartache and pain. When we share in that with others, a burden is lifted. Transparency is allowing yourself to suffer well with others even when all you can say is "..but, I'm scared".