that's the time stamp on the note I just came across on my iPhone. It's a list of notes I took at a seminar during the second week of this semester, 68 days ago. That seems like such a long time ago, so many things have happened - so much life has been lived. It was the beginning of my last semester and now I'm 45 days away from graduation day.
The seminar was about the importance of being vulnerable in context of the upcoming semester and living it to the fullest. At the time, I did not want to attend this seminar. It was something that was mandatory and very much a "check mark" activity. I wanted to get in & get out. But, once I sat down, settled in, and the speaker began, my attention was all hers. She's an amazing speaker at our University. A highly respected faculty member, who is not but 10 years older than us at most, and probably with more energy and stamina than we all have put together. Her mind is sharp and she is always pushing us to be better versions of ourselves. This was one of those "push" talks.
I will own up to the fact that I am NOT a vulnerable person, 99% of the time. I do enjoy the occasional brief moment of letting down my guard, but most of the time I am like Fort Knox. I'm not the "goth-hide-in-her-room-and-listen-to-heavy-metal" type of Fort Knox, nor the hermit one either. I am the type who pretends to be vulnerable. Yeah, I'll openly tell you "My parents are divorced." "I'm a Christian." "I don't think this is right." yada yada yada, but I won't just let anyone into my heart. Trust is kind of an issue with me too - same story, different players. I've never had truly real friends, until college, and because of the really crappy ones I had before, I don't know how to treat the golden ones I have now. Once you're pooped on by a bird once, you just kind of stray away from getting close to birds, even if you do enjoy looking at them from afar. (I really don't know if that analogy made sense, so moving on)...
The title of the speech was "The story I'm making up in my head is..."
Immediately, I screamed (internally of course) - "WHAT?!?! Thats a thing?! People other than me do that?!"
And then she went into how to use this strategically instead of poorly - she said "Telling people this from the get go, allows people to understand where you are coming from and what is really going on with you. People have other things going on in their lives and cannot just read your mind about what is going on with you."
I've done this all my life. I've made up stories about what people meant by "that look she gave me in the grocery store," or "how she said she couldn't hang out." "It really meant you're ugly," or "It really meant that she had better plans than hanging out with you." These LIES that our mind so readily feeds us. She said, "When you don't tell people about the scripts you have in your head or what is going on, it just fuels disconnection and discontentment."
I had never truly defined vulnerability. She said that vulnerability is not a weakness; it is "who has earned the right to hear your story?" who has earned the right to know me?
Woah... that's a humbling definition. Who has earned the right to know me/to hear my story? My mind for so long has been telling me, "No one wants to hear your story. Shut up. You don't matter. Other people's opinions and feelings are more important. Just stop being you; become them."
I like her view better - but why didn't I heed it then? It's 68 days later and, I'm back at square one hiding out behind false feelings and words, lies really.
This vulnerability has a caveat, however. It is not an excuse to just let it all hang out 100% of the time, not caring who you hurt or what words you use in doing it. There is a difference between being honest and sharing too much.
Lastly, she says that the best way to combat fear, inadequacy, and shame is worthiness. I never followed through with this, but she suggested making a list of, "I'm never _____ enough." Whatever the lies might be that you are dealing with, just list them out and figure them out so that you can know how to fight them. My list is: I'm never - good, pretty, understood, smart, right, Christian, strong, etc. - enough.
Psalm 139 is a passage that I have known my entire life, but never really looked at deeply. It has so much about your worth in it. Just read God's song of worth to you - "You are fearfully and wonderfully made." - pretty (check). "Even there my hand will guide you." - strength & God's guidance no matter what choice (check). "I am familiar with all of your ways." - God understands me & doesn't think I'm a horrible person (check). and thats just a few verses from one chapter of the Bible - imagine how much more there are? "My worthiness comes from being a child of God."
I'm not going to let my mind or anyone else rob me of that worthiness.
With that, she challenged us to live wholeheartedly. Wholeheartedness = "The capacity to engage in our lives with authenticity, courage, and compassion and embrace the imperfections of who we really are." - Brené Brown.
Another speaker that day said this, "Don't be OJ. Don't let your last semester make your legacy any less worthy than the first 7."
I've lost a good many of my last 68 days because I was too scared to be vulnerable with the people who I know deep in my heart would be the most receptive and appreciative of my vulnerability. I'm ashamed of my cowardly behavior; I'm humbled by the grace that I've been shown by friends and family alike. They don't have to love me, but somehow, someway, they do. I am incredibly awestruck by the truth in scripture that has been under my nose for such a long time. I feel like, if I let it, then this last semester could ruin the way I look at my college experience and most definitely change the way that people look at me in their experience. I've definitely been an "OJ" for the past 68 days. I've been tainting my legacy that I worked so hard to build over the past 3.5 years - all for what? Because I was scared of telling the truth? Being vulnerable? That's dumb.
Be vulnerable. Be real. Be kind. Know your worth. & Don't be OJ.
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