Blogging and the Power of Vulnerability

When I started blogging, I was only a college student who thought life was so full of shit (although I still think it is) that I blogged about how shitty and unfair life can get after stepping on a bubble gum with your brand new shoes. Half of the time I was ranting. And half of it, I was trying to make myself look good. My voice was soft, quiet, and dampened back then. I wasn't comfortable being myself. So I wrote only of the things I wanted the people to read because I was ashamed and afraid. I was afraid of rejection. I was afraid that people I don't even know would hate me. I was afraid that they may see me less of a person by my choice of words. I was careful with anything I wrote that hitting the publish button was a challenge.

Years passed and life became shittier than it was. It became so murky that I couldn't help but type my words to let the fog out and have some sense of clarity. It was hard for me to open up. Questions began to surface when I started showing the profound and "less edited" version of me. Questions that begin with what if. It's pretty amazing how the simple and innocent words What and If - which are perfectly harmless on their own - can become really catastrophic when combined. It's like a bomb that when dropped would make me go back scampering inside my shell. What if people will judge me for this? What if they'll think I'm like this or that? What if it's not good enough? It was a war between me and my inhibitions. A struggle to survive the pangs of truth.


Truth is, blogging makes you vulnerable. And it's not easy to become wounded and let people sprinkle you with salt.

It is one way of opening yourself up to public scrutiny. You would occasionally find yourself the target of judgment, criticism, and unsolicited advice. People will begin to question your opinion, decisions, or principles. And most of the time, they can be vile, ruthless, and they show no tact. You can get bashed, flamed, ridiculed, or trolled for genuinely expressing yourself. You can be misunderstood. And unfortunately, this ordeal is inevitable.

But with this continuing struggle, I've seen the power and beauty of vulnerability in blogging. For years of posting and trying to be as genuine as I can, I didn't know that by opening myself to others, I was making a difference. It was unbelievable that having the courage to post something dismal or something most of us wouldn't dare tell anyone can draw admiration worthy of virtual pats on the back. Mistakes I've made. Things I've done that I'm not proud of. Bad life-changing decisions. Shares of failure. And those moments I wish I've never been through. Showing the authentic self not only made me realize that I wasn't alone but it served as a bridge to reach out to others, to truly touch or inspire another. It creates a connection because you're giving away more than just the facade. You present yourself as a human, capable of being wounded, just like the others.

I have embraced vulnerability. But that doesn't mean my shame and fears have all gone away. It never will. I'd be lying if I say I am not scared. But I'd rather be vulnerable, put myself out there and be seen as a human being than dodge the blows and stand behind a mask of lies (which then defeats the purpose of a blog). If there's one thing I learned about being vulnerable is that you can be hated not for who you are but for the vision people have of you. And none of that will really matter. Being vulnerable is not always a pleasant experience but as long as I am alive and breathing then I will stay vulnerable. Because being vulnerable builds a gentle and quite breeze of freedom inside. And trust me, it can never feel so right.

So be vulnerable. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. And write like no one's reading.