I understand how deeply it can feel like holding space for yourself-creating a place to just exist— comes at the expense of others or risks being dismissed as selfishness. And I see how that perspective can make vulnerability seem not just dangerous, but even unjustifiable in a world that can be so hostile toward simply being.
But vulnerability, at its core, isn’t about exposing yourself to harm-it’s about living authentically, even when the world doesn’t guarantee safety or acceptance. It’s acknowledging what’s real for you in the moment without needing it to be validated or understood by anyone else. And when it’s shared in the right context-when someone holds space with you—it can feel less like narcissism and more like courage.
The hostility you speak of is real, and I won’t pretend otherwise. The world can be indifferent, even cruel, and there’s no guarantee that being vulnerable will always lead to connection or understanding. But I also think the idea that creating a space for yourself is “taking from others” is a kind of narrative the world tells us to keep us small, compliant, and unwilling to take up the space we’re entitled to as human beings.
What if immersing yourself in vulnerability isn’t about making yourself a target, but about discovering what’s truly worth protecting? What if it’s about finding the strength to exist—not in defiance of others, but in defiance of the belief that you don’t deserve to exist fully at all?
I won’t pretend this is easy or without risk. But maybe it’s not about immersing yourself fully all at once. Maybe it’s about dipping your toes in when the moment feels right, building resilience not against the world, but for yourself.
What would it feel like to take even a small step in that direction?