The Essence of Vulnerability

Before starting this blog, I looked up the definition of vulnerability. Here’s what the dictionary says:

“The quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.”

Wow! Take that in for a moment… the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally! This sounds terrifying, like living in a constant state of fear.

This is my understanding of vulnerability from the sacred lens of the feeling body:

Vulnerability is a living, breathing rhythm. Here, it is not a weakness, it is presence. It's in the way you speak to yourself, the way you inhabit your body, the way you let love in, even in the smallest gestures. It is the courageous act of softening into your truth, opening yourself to be seen, felt, and held without the armor.

This may seem less intimidating than the dictionary version, but it’s just as formidable. This is a willingness to be seen beyond your roles, your achievements, your well-held masks. It's opening yourself to your fears - of being rejected, judged, not good enough, or not having control.

This can equally evoke terror.

For many of us, we can’t be vulnerable because we don’t feel safe. Our safety was built around control, perfection, or silence. Vulnerability asks us to undo those layers.

 How do you know when it’s Safe to be Vulnerable?

Your body knows. It whispers in warmth, settles in the belly, or exhales deeply. When you become attuned to these signals, you let your inner wisdom guide the pace and depth of your opening.

What Does It Take to Be Vulnerable?

It takes trust in your own inner ground, the quiet knowing that even if your voice trembles, your truth matters.

It takes a slow returning to the body, the vessel that holds your unspoken stories, your longings, your grief, your light. Vulnerability doesn’t rush. It listens. It waits until it’s safe enough, kind enough.

It takes compassion for the parts of you that fear exposure, and tenderness for the ones that long to be met.

Above all, it takes choosing yourself, over silence, over shame, over old scripts, again and again, with softness and devotion.

Here, in the Sacred Inner Ground, vulnerability is not a risk to be managed, it's an opening to be honored.