I hate being vulnerable.
No, seriously. Hate isn’t a word I use very often, but in this case…it definitely applies.
I had to make peace with the fact that I’m different than most people I’m around a long time ago. I learned to start putting walls up because people weren’t going to have my best interest at heart, people weren’t going to have the best of intentions, and I was going to get my heart broken more than anyone should have to if I didn’t block them out first.
The problem with this, of course, is that I’m loving by nature. I’m aware that in general I’m a pretty warm and giving person…it’s my favorite parts of my personality. That means that putting up walls for me is almost as uncomfortable as having none at all. It means blocking people out when I’d much rather let them in. It means constantly second guessing how far I’m willing to bring the walls down with each person I’m around. It means constantly second guessing myself, my worth, my desireability, and probably more than anything…my own feelings.
Feelings. I’ve struggled with those probably longer than anything. I don’t like dealing with my emotions mainly because it forces me to realize how hard I suppress myself. I don’t like not having control over how I feel about something. I work hard to not let it show, to not let anyone in, but it still happens. And it worries me when it does. It worries me that I am too much, that eventually everything locked up tight inside is going to flood out and it will be too much.
I don’t know how to stop it, either. I don’t know if it’s worth stopping. I don’t know if I’m worth it to try.
