And I’m still trippin over my vulnerability hangover. I threw the door open and let you in. But things got cold when I realized you could come and go as you please. See my imperfections. See my ugly. You could put together ideas about who you think I am. I could tell you about my fears and you might say I need to pray. Tell you about my questions and you might question my faith. Say shit and you might want to clean my mouth. I said things that might make you uncomfortable. I took the shot glass of vulnerability and later felt the effects.


I hang my head down. Slam the door shut. But I’m still shivering. Because my fears. Insecurities. Shame. They don’t feel warm and cozy like they use to. There’s no life here. I’m alone in my self-made house. And its foundation made of sand is quickly sinking.

So let me get up real quick. Walk out into the sun. Lift my face to the warmth of it. Drink a tall glass of everlasting, thirst quenching water. Let me stand up straight. Take a deep breathe. Open my hands up to the weakness I feel. Fix my eyes on that grace filled  strength. I’m not done letting you in yet. And maybe I’ll trip over my vulnerability again. Maybe I’ll skin my knee showing you real. I’ll tell you about my wounds and my scars. I’ll be honest about my imperfections and my ugly. And maybe you wince at first glance. But keep looking because there’s redemption here.  Grace. Sanctification. Red that turns to white. Cause I’m working out this salvation. And I am being made new again.  New again.

I did not come up with the phrase “vulnerability hangover.” All props goes to Brene Brown who’s book inspired this thought. It was exactly how I felt when I started owning my story and being vulnerable. Her work and books on shame were LIFE CHANGING for me. Check them out if you dare! 

photo by Flickr

4 thoughts on “hangover

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