vulnerable (adjective): susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm
“Say the thing. Always say the thing.” My partner tells me this every time I’m getting ready to share something vulnerable but the words have a quick battle before they leave my tongue. Part of this is because I get caught up wondering if the jumbled words in my head will come out right. Another reason is due to fear. Fear that I’ll be misunderstood or invalidated. Fear that my act of vulnerability will not be received and cared for.
I’ve spent the last two months in Somatica training with my peers doing a deep dive into shame, childhood trauma, triggers, and vulnerability. And it’s fascinating how these topics impact our adult relationships—platonic and romantic—and underlying fears. For example:
I have a fear of standing out or being contrary. I have a fear of being labeled “too much,” “too critical,” “too dramatic,” or “selfish.” It all stems from childhood when I’d naturally stand out, express myself, and speak my mind only to be shamed for it later—by family and childhood peers. Now, every time I want to go deeper with people, I have to fight to “say the thing” or take up space as my survival brain wonders: are they going to think I’m weird or too dramatic?
Some of my core desires for intimacy stem from childhood wounds and experiences. I embrace some and avoid others, and that’s not a bad thing. My eldest daughter tendencies—and the responsibility that comes with it—have naturally put me in positions of leadership, decision-making, and influence. I embrace these traits for work, but when it comes to romance, I swoon at a partner who takes initiative and lets me turn my brain off from time to time.
Smiling is one of my main coping mechanisms and a subtle way to deflect from what I’m feeling. It’s a physical representation of how I try to find the silver lining or “bright side” through some of my worst experiences. I did this as I opened up with my partner about some childhood experiences with violence and again as I practiced a “trigger mapping” exercise with a coaching peer.
These are just a few revelations that have come to light over the past month of sex and intimacy coaching training. These are also recent moments I’ve shared with others where I’ve felt both seen and held upon sharing.
I say “seen” and “held” because sometimes we share something personal and even if we aren’t judged, ignored, or shamed, we may not get the care we need or desire after sharing. More on this below.
What I’m Reading & Watching:
How We Do It: Black Writers on Craft, Practice, and Skill by Various Contributors like Jericho Brown, Angela Flournoy, Camille T. Dungy, and Jacqueline Woodson
Stateway’s Garden by Jasmon Drain
The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron
What If…? (on Disney+)
Swarm (on Prime Video)
I’m A Virgo (on Prime Video)
Sex Education (on Netflix) — So many of y’all have mentioned this since I started my sex & intimacy coaching practice! I gave in. I’ve arrived. 😅
Check out more reading suggestions at my Bookshop:
What I’m Listening To:
How Were We To Know album by Emeli Sandé
Honour and Glory EP by Mega
“Serena” by Adi Oasis feat. Samm Henshaw
Foreverland album by Keyon Harold
“How to Rest” episode from the How to Keep Time podcast by The Atlantic
Being Held in Our Humanity
Being held–or holding others—comes with the art of being vulnerable. Take one of the examples I mentioned above:
I shared my fear of being “too much” with my coaching small group. What I thought might be perceived as “too dramatic” was received as setting healthy boundaries from the rest of my group. Can you believe that? Folks thanked me for setting a healthy boundary while I was worried they might think I didn’t want to be part of the group. More importantly, they asked what I needed at the moment to feel comforted—namely because physical touch, like hugs or caressing my hands, are what makes me (literally) feel held after having a vulnerable moment. Each month, we meet virtually so we came up with alternatives like sending favorite songs or seasonal foods that would create a sense of being held from afar.
Being seen and held. Being with someone and caring for them. This is the art of vulnerability.
It’s been a beautiful journey so far learning about and exploring the Somatica Method with my fellow coaching peers, my partner, and with some of you!
I’ve had the privilege of supporting your journeys to unearth shame, social expectations about womanhood, feeling at home in your body, setting boundaries, and much more. I may be new to coaching but I’m not new to holding space for others to be seen and held. That’s my goal after each session—that you feel just a little bit more comfortable about being vulnerable and living authentically.
Schedule a coaching call with me and let’s chat more about one of the topics above! I will begin seeing regular clients (instead of one-offs) as well as hosting group workshops beginning in April 2024. Stay tuned 😊
For Justice & Joy,
LySaundra Janeé