Wednesday, August 29, 2018

What Makes You Vulnerable Makes You Beautiful

It's only Wednesday. I'm already emotionally, mentally, and physically drained. Early yesterday morning, I learned that my dear friend Bill passed away. Later in the day, I received an email that was the cherry atop the proverbial sundae. I replied. I also had a slightly heated conversation with a dear friend that probably shouldn't have taken place at that moment. In both instances, my response was both harsh and unprofessional.

This morning, I apologized for both.

Reaching out and apologizing for both wasn't easy for me, but I owned it. I explained why my previous day's tone lacked empathy or concern.

From that point on, a rather deep conversation unfolded.

I didn't expect this conversation to take place via email, but it did.

My original plan for the day was to write a lengthy apology, then transition over to the Bodacious DIY Dog Mom Project Workshop to work on some projects.

That didn't exactly happen on schedule.

I'm not complaining. 

As tough and emotional as it was, the email conversation continued...

The messes in both of our lives were shared.

The vulnerabilities.

For just a second, I want to focus on that single world.


Throughout our lives and the many experiences we encounter and lessons learned, we're either taught or we've learned, or a combination of both, to not share those vulnerabilities. The messes.

We are brainwashed into thinking that the vulnerabilities and messes are supposed to remain behind closed doors. Even with close friends and family. We share those vulnerabilities and messes in safe increments. From time to time.

We flirt with those safe waters.

Throughout that period, we only get a tiny portion of the stories. What happened. The answers to the question, "Why?"

Then, when life gets too loud, it all becomes a tangled, jumbled mess.

But, what I learned today, is that what makes you vulnerable makes you beautiful.

I shared.

She shared.

At the end of the day, we were both exposed.



It doesn't matter how hard you work. How much money you save. How much effort you put into being a prime example. How many resources you provide. How much wisdom you share. How many years of experience you have. Whether you're a Mom to a Human Kid or a Dog Mom, or both.

At one point, you're going to feel like a failure. You're going to have to swallow your pride. You're going to have those moments when you fold because people ask the most generic of questions and you don't feel like answering them.

Or they pass judgment without knowing the details. 

During these moments, at times, you'll wish the ground could open up and swallow you whole when someone asks questions...

At times, you're going to have to admit defeat. You're going to have to seclude yourself for a bit while you ponder and make those tough decisions.

Because none of us are immune to those moments when life gets a bit too loud.

We're all human.


Sometimes, we just need that space. That acceptance. That bouquet of flowers reminding us of the beauty amid vulnerability.

That hug and kiss.

The unconditional love.

That understanding.

The security of knowing who's door you can knock on. At any hour. In shambles. In tears. At the end of your rope. And, they'll be there. To listen. To assist. Without judgment.

AND, the confidence and trust that they will not share with this person or that person. Because gossib sucks and is never cool.

In the few years that I've published blog columns on this site, I've mentioned time and time again, that it doesn't matter how old you are. It doesn't matter how much wisdom you've collected over the years.

Until you take your last breath, you'll always make mistakes. Learn. Become a little bit wiser.

Yeah, I'll be 45 this year. I'm responsible, wise, hard-working, and each day I strive to become a better version of myself than the day before.

The door to those lessons learned will never close.


To the exceptional woman who reminded me of that today, thank you. You have inspired me more than you'll ever know.

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