I watched Brené Brown’s talk on vulnerability again today — and for the first time, I realized something:

I’m living it.
Not perfectly, not neatly. But truthfully.

Over the last few months, I’ve shown up more than I ever have:

  • I told someone I fancied them and asked them out.
  • I reached out to people I thought I could be friends with.
  • I shared my heart across over 400 blog posts — most of which might never be read.
  • I’ve risked being seen, and I’ve been shut down. A lot.

And still… I show up.

I’m writing into the abyss most days.
Not for applause.
Not for attention.
Not even for connection anymore.
I’m writing because this is me. Because I want to live in a way that’s aligned with who I’m becoming.

There’s something sacred in that. Quietly sacred.

Brené talks about wholehearted people — those who have the courage to be imperfect, to be vulnerable, and to still move forward. I never thought I’d get to that place. But I think, in my own way, I’m walking it now.

I may not have been met yet — not in love, not in friendship — but the point isn’t whether I’m met. The point is that I’m real. That I’ve reclaimed my voice. That I no longer shape-shift or hide to feel worthy.

So this is my proof, for me more than anyone else:

I showed up anyway.
And that’s enough.