I'm reading a hilarious collection of essays called The Last Single Woman in America by Cindy Guidry. More hilarious because she's single in LA, which if you're not here, you don't know what a freakish place this is. Guys will wave their Bentleys at you, inquire who your agent is and poke to find out "who you know," and suddenly the date you think you're on dissolves into a portrait of a dude on a soapbox vomiting out words about how he's the coolest man who ever walked Sunset Boulevard.
Anyway, I just read this line and it stung, "Vulnerability is terrifying. It's much easier to be admired from afar than to let someone get close and actually see me."
And at 7:00 AM on a Saturday, I'm suddenly ridiculously introspective. I think about past relationships where I've settled for less rather than admit I need more. I remember moments when I should have exploded in tears and instead, took a deep breath, threw my shoulders back and smiled.
I'm aware and I'm working on it. But vulnerability is terrifying to me. (It's terrifying to even type about it.) What's terrifying to you?
4 years ago