{day 23} learning and practicing vulnerability

he told me friends wanted to go out and i said i didn't want to go. and then i changed my mind.

you see, at first, he told me it would be ski-ball and beer. i can do ski-ball and beer. i was legitimately excited about ski-ball and beer.

but then the plans changed. and i saw pictures of a fancy down-town dive and dresses and drinks filled with gin and whiskey...

i just wanted a rum and coke.

but really? i was ultimately frightened of spending the evening with people who didn't know me. some call this "shyness" - i call it a legitimate fear of being seen.

ski-ball and beer is safe. it lacks conversation and provides built-in diversion. but this? 

this was "hey how are yous" and stuff. this was being the odd-one-out stuff.

and really it all boils down to one frightening truth: i hate being un-invisible. 

it's been such a part of my life that so easily i sink back into the shadows. provide a way out or no expectations and likely i'll aim for staying home and under the blankets with the people who know me most.

but i took a step last night. i shut my fear quiet and got dressed.

i just want to protect you, he said. i don't want you to feel you have to go...

he knows me well.

that's just it - i answered back. i know you'll protect me. i have to stop letting fear talk when i really do wanna go. 

we did go, and we laughed. afterwards, we whispered shy over guacamole and queso and giggled at patrons walking through the door. stumbling through the darkness when we got home, i found the bed and collapsed with a smile on my face. i snuggled up next to the one who had my hand the entire night - the one who knows me better than anyone on this earth - and i whispered thanks to One who knows my heart.

there's beauty in vulnerability. i'm learning this. and i imagine i come off as awkward more often than not but usually it's just me finding my sea-legs in a world that is so foreign to my gun-shy heart. i'm getting there, though.

Posted on October 23, 2011 and filed under finding{and telling}your story.