People tell us to be vulnerable, that there’s no point in living if you’re always protecting yourself from the potential negativity from taking risks. They tell you that you’ll live through it, that it’s worth being torn up over, knowing you won’t have any regrets.
I haven’t had to protect myself from much, but when I do, I build myself a mile-high tower, hide myself in there, and hire a dragon to keep everyone away. I’ll even chop off my hair so any impulsive decision to bring someone in to “save me” would be impossible.
Telling me to be vulnerable is telling me to “take a leap of faith” out of that tower and hoping that there will be something to stop me from crushing myself to the ground. Every single time I’ve jumped out of that ledge so far, my face hits the floor and every metaphorical part of my body is broken. That’s it, I’m crushed.
All I wanna do is get back in that tower and give my dragon friend a hug, but I’m all the way on the ground floor and there are no lifts. My bones are shattered and I can’t get up. I can’t call a doctor- of course I built my tower in the most isolated area in all of the land. So I’m just lying there, all bruised and bloody on the floor, making vague emotional posts on social media.
Being vulnerable is stupid. Being vulnerable gets you looking like a shattered makeup palette on the floor, and that shit ain’t cute.
I’m not saying it’s never worth taking risks, that would also be stupid. I’m saying be prepared to fall. Prepared to hit the ground and be hurt. People are gonna tell you, “that’s not gonna happen, look at the brightside of things!”. Yeah, well don’t blind yourself staring at the sun, when you really should be looking at where you know you’ll be landing.
I’m not a pessimist, but I am a realist and I don’t like falling. I mean, you have to pay me a million bucks for me to even consider doing a bungee jump, and I’m not even hitting the floor.
Also, I’m really good at this metaphor thing.
Published by Liza Ruedas