We consume so much media from self proclaimed experts (and actual experts) who’ve already done the work and made it out on the other side. That advice is often helpful, but sometimes— you just need to hear from someone who’s in the thick of it, still figuring their shit out in real time.
Hi, my name is Emily. I’m not a self proclaimed expert by any means. In fact I’m writing a poetry book on vulnerability and relationships, while still learning what vulnerability looks like. Every day I discover new things about myself, so instead journaling about it, I thought I’d share some of it with you, to better understand relationships and self help.
When you’re struggling, hyper positive, hindsight is 20/20, “you’re going to get through this” content can feel alienating. I’m not a guru, and frankly I have no idea what I’m doing… but maybe holding a mirror up to my own shit, will help you with yours.
Today, I was listening to the Feminine as F*ck podcast with Monica Yates, and she touched on vulnerability versus intimacy in one of her episodes and it hit me like a truck.
I paused for a minute and really thought about how I show intimacy and vulnerability in my relationships, especially with men. I’ve always been the over-sharer type, I’ll tell you my trauma over coffee like it’s a fun facts. I’ve always thought I was being vulnerable, but why don’t I feel closer with someone after sharing what most would consider to be their deepest secrets?
And then it clicked…
I don’t tell my story like I lived it, I tell it like a narrator, not the girl it actually happened to. I often share vulnerable parts of myself without any attachment to the event that transpired. I feel sadness, but like it’s happening to a close friend. I don’t actually sit in my pain, I detach and analyze it from a safe distance.
Like many, I grew up in a household where showing emotion and being raw was met with punishment. I learned how to feel my emotions in the privacy of the bathroom, sobbing my little heart out and washing my face before stepping back out. Because of this, I grew into adulthood learning to show just enough to build relationships but no tools on how to strengthen them.
There’s something deeper there though, I just don’t know what. Mind you, I did just discover this about myself today but I’m determined to figure out the root of my deep seated issues with intimacy. I’ve gone through my life unable to even muster up a hug for my closest friends, and now, as an adult, I build relationships with men and ghost them when sexual expectations surface.
As a woman reconnecting with her feminine energy, this struggle to show and receive intimacy has become much more complicated. On one hand, I’m learning to surrender and embrace my softness; on the other, I’m fighting an internal battle. My feminine energy longs to be nurtured, yet I fear the intimacy that comes with receiving love. The masculine energy that often surrounds me tries to provide security and protection, but it’s hard to let myself receive it in a way that feels safe. Honestly, I often enjoy long distance relationships far more than physical ones because there’s no expectation of being sexually or physically intimate.
The intimacy I crave is the same intimacy I fight tooth and nail when offered to me. Maybe I’m carrying too much emotional baggage around, maybe I have unhealed father wounds, or maybe I’m more in my masculine energy than I even realize.
I don’t have all the answers right now. In fact I’m figuring this all out in real time, but I’m committed to doing the work to shift this and improve my relationship with myself and others. I hope that by sharing this, someone out there feels a little less alone in this whole “figuring out life” thing. And I’d love for you to join me on this new journey of self reflection.
So I’m curious: How do you show up in your own relationships? Are you able to be fully vulnerable? How do you handle intimacy, and what parts scare you? Let’s unpack this together.
emily unfiltered 