Vulnerability

I started this blog 10 years ago.
Hannah was two years old and in the stage of temper tantrums and terrible two's.
I was pregnant with Claire and thought blogging might be a fun way to document life.
An outlet for me to write about motherhood and also journal the memories and moments that I didn't want to forget.
I had no idea what blogging would become for me over the next several years to follow.

Blogging reminded me how much I love to write.
Through blogging, I discovered a new love and hobby for photography. I discovered an outlet and a purpose for myself during a time when motherhood was all consuming.
I made some amazing friendships and connections with people that I had no idea would even be possible. I've made lifelong friends through this old blog and when it first began I was certain that the only person reading would be my mother.
She might be the only person reading now, but that's ok.

I stepped away from the blog for some reason.
I told myself that life was getting too busy.
The girls were getting older and there just wasn't time to blog.
I think the truth was more like this; life got messy, and busy too. But rather than continue to share, I shut down.

There wasn't one thing that happened. It was just life. As it happens to all of us. It's not always pretty and sometimes it's hard.

I just read Brené Brown's book, Daring Greatly.
My book club chose it for this month's book and I can't wait to discuss it because it is so profoundly honest and truthful with so many wonderful nuggets of wisdom that will stay with me forever.

In the beginning, Brené talks about vulnerability and shame and what defines the two. She mentions a study done in the US on conformity to feminine norms that listed the important attributes associated with "being feminine". They were listed as "being nice, pursuing a thin body ideal, showing modesty by not calling attention to one's talents or abilities, being domestic, caring for children, investing in a romantic relationship, keeping sexual intimacy contained within one committed relationship, and using our resources to invest in our appearance." 

Brené sums this up by saying this: "Basically, we have to be willing to stay as small, sweet, and quiet as possible, and use our time and our talent to look pretty. Our dreams, ambitions, and gifts are unimportant."

As I read Daring Greatly, I realized that this is exactly what I had started to do. I wasn't blogging because the girls got older and life got busy. I was staying quiet because it fits into the "box" of social norm.

I am not the same person I was when I first started to blog 10 years ago. I've glanced back through some of my old posts and they make me cringe because of what I wrote or what I said. We all grow and change and evolve as time goes on and that's just part of the journey. It is my goal to continue to grow and I am grateful for the process.

When I was hired as a Styling Lead for Stitch Fix in 2017, I was in San Francisco for one of many training sessions at HQ, and Margo Wheeler, one of the company's leaders, said that "Growth doesn't feel all nice and pretty; it's sweaty." That could not be more true. Especially for me in that moment as I sat there in a room full of leaders, wondering if I really belonged there too. I am one of those sweaty people anyways without experiencing growth. Every time I watch a suspenseful moment on tv my hands break out in a full-on sweat. Applying for this role at Stitch Fix was one of the scariest things I'd done in a long time because I knew that I was opening myself up to vulnerability. I knew that I was going to work so hard to try to get the role and spend so much time applying for the role and that by applying, I was exposing myself to the hurt and the vulnerability that I might experience if I didn't get it. And that's exactly how it works. Vulnerability is scary. It exposes us. And it makes us realize that we might be a lot safer if we just stay small and fit into that box of feminine norms.

I could write more on all of the growth and many lessons I learned while I was on the leadership team for Stitch Fix but that is for another day.

This post is more to say that one of the things I have learned, from Stitch Fix, and from Brené Brown's book Daring Greatly, and just from life, is that if we aren't willing to open ourselves up and be vulnerable from time to time, we might miss out on some of the greatest experiences of our lives because we chose to stay small and to fit inside that box.

Last month when I discovered that Claire had lice, I freaked out.
Remember how I said I get sweaty?
I'm talking sweaty hands and pits, my heart was beating a mile a minute, my hands were literally shaking, I was PANICKING, and scared to death that #1, these things were on her head, and #2, that I was going to have to take care of this, and if I'm being honest, #3, that I would catch lice from her myself.
I'm getting sweaty again just thinking about that day.
But here's the thing, once we face our fears and deal with the thing that scares us, you learn, you grow, and guess what?

It's not so scary anymore.

That is exactly what happened with the lice.
I mean, yes, lice are gross disgusting parasites and I hope I never see one again for the rest of my life!
But once I learned more about them, their life cycle, how they work, how they are spread, and how to treat them, it was no longer this big scary thing.
It was just lice.
We handled it.
And thankfully we all survived.

I knew lice is a common thing among elementary school-aged kids.
What I didn't know, was how many of my friends have experienced this same thing with their kids and even themselves.
What I didn't know was how many people would share their story with me once I shared mine with them.

Of course, I was scared to share. I was scared to admit that it happened to my daughter for fear of what others might think.

Why? Why do we do that to ourselves? 

Brené talks about how vulnerability is the first thing we look for to connect with someone else but it's the last thing we are willing to share. Here is what she said: "The difficult thing is that vulnerability is the first thing I look for in you and the last thing I'm willing to show you. In you, it's courage and daring. In me, it's weakness."  Of course, it's not really a weakness, but fear makes us believe that it is.

I decided to share about Claire having lice because I knew it wasn't something to be shameful or embarrassed about. It's just a thing that happens and you take care of it. We are lucky to live in a country where we can take care of it. I am thankful that we have the resources and ability to resolve something as trivial as lice. It's been taken care of and I've spent a ridiculous amount of money on shampoos, sprays, and essential oils to now use as preventative measures to ensure we never deal with this again. I might have also made a few purchases for myself and told Mr. Hass it was my lice removal fee. Ha! A girl's got to get some sort of reward after dealing with that mess right? 

I was pretty surprised by all of the comments and messages I got from people who have experienced the same thing. So many people were willing to share their experience with me and I thank you for that. If I had not allowed myself to be vulnerable and as Brené Brown says, to dare greatly, I might never have heard from so many of you who were willing to open up to me about this too. Thank you for sharing with me and for helping me to realize that our vulnerabilities are what help us to connect.

Vulnerability is one of the many threads that connect all of us to each other. We are all human. We all experience fear and vulnerability at some point. Most of us are afraid of the same things. But we don't talk about it. We stay quiet. As women, we stay inside that box of feminine norms to not be seen or to only be seen in the way we think we are supposed to instead of showing up as ourselves. 

I've also been a little sad that because I was willing to be vulnerable about lice, Claire has had a few hurtful comments that have come her way. A few kids have told her that they are not allowed to be her friend until her lice are gone. That painful truth right there is enough to make me wish I stayed small and quiet and didn't risk my and her vulnerability to share about this experience. 

Although, now I see, that even though Claire had to hear those things at school, it's also been an opportunity of growth for her as well. We've had a lot of family talks about vulnerability, and fear, and kindness. 

People will always be afraid of what they don't know. I was so afraid of lice. I was scared to death of lice. But now? Well, I've learned that while disgusting, they can't jump, they can't fly, they're common, yes, but you can't catch them by looking at someone who has them, or by touching their pencil at school, or by being their friend. 

Sometimes we have to face our fears, be vulnerable, get sweaty, and grow. 

When was the last time you allowed yourself to be vulnerable? Maybe today is your day.