Fear of Vulnerability

I want you to see me how I wish I was, not how I really am. Because who I am is scared and weak and not in control. He stumbles on his words and is wrong a lot and makes mistakes all the time. And revealing that makes me feel vulnerable. But if you don't get to know that person, your relationship isn't with me at all.


Humans are like snails. We're soft and weak and vulnerable (and even a little gross?) on the inside. When something scares us, we hide behind our shell, the image people have of us. And we feel safer that way because the shell is stronger and polished. It's prettier to look at. We may even have several different shells for different occasions. But that's not us. It's not real. And those relationships leave us unfulfilled because they aren't real.

We all want to believe the image we project. Maybe if we play pretend and believe it hard enough, we'll magically change into what we want to be. Or perhaps more accurately, if we can get others to believe it. Perhaps that's why we put so much value on the perspective of others. We're seeking that validation. But on a more devious level, we want to know if the illusion is working.

But when we're alone, the shell doesn't exist. We can try to put it up, but it needs an audience to materialize. We can't fool ourselves. That's why so many people are afraid to be alone. They feel naked and exposed because they can't fool themselves anymore.

Until we learn to overcome this fear of being vulnerable, we can never have a real relationship with anyone. It's scary, but it's worth the risk. Because the alternative is feeling alone for the rest of your life.

p.s. Don't get me wrong. Shells/images of us can be very useful in social settings and professional relationships. But for intimate relationships like friendships and romantic connections, this approach will only hamstring you.

A Failtacular Adventure

So tonight was an eventful night where nothing happened. I know, it sounds confusing. And it was. But it will make sense in a minute.

My dad is coming to visit me this month. The plan was for me to get a ride down to the airport and meet him there so we could ride back to my place together and he wouldn't have to face the horrors of LA rush hour traffic alone. Plus, I don't get a ton of visitors out here so maximizing my time with my father was a nice incentive too.

I managed to bum a ride off my friend Zech who works in Venice and rode down with him when he went to work at 3pm. We hit good traffic and made it to Venice by about 3:50. And my dad wasn't getting in until 7-7:30. So I went to a coffee shop for a while to see if another friend of mine was working. He was not. Then I had a decision to make. My dad wasn't getting in for 3 hours and I was 6 miles away from the airport. I could sit there and watch the Avengers and still have a couple hours to kill when it was all said and done. Or, I could walk to the airport and meet my dad at the gate.

I went with the latter because, why the hell not? I'm young. I have the time and good health to make such a trek. I won't always have either of those things. And a day will come when I'd be willing to walk 1,000 miles to see my father and won't be able to, so I'm living for the now. Besides, I had just completed a 9+ mile hike up and down a 3,000 foot elevation change a few weeks ago. This would be a cakewalk.

Off I went, walking through Venice Beach and Marina Del Rey, the sun setting behind me. I walked in silence, I commented on my surroundings. I talked to God. I sang and whistled. I watched the final 20 minutes of "Star Wars: A New Hope" in my head, complete with a full John Williams score, which I whistled and hummed (yes, apparently I can do that now). And before I knew it... I was half way there.


Now, it's important for the rest of the story to note that my phone was running dangerously low at this point. I had, in fact, turned it off for the entire second half of my journey as the battery had dropped below 10%. Keep this in mind.

The walk was quite an experience. It felt good since I've been struggling with a stuffy nose all week. Being able to exercise with no symptoms was a nice reprieve. It was a beautiful evening, as most are in Southern California. The big regret I have was not having a travel companion on this trek. Because memories are always better shared. But alas.

I finally arrived at the airport right on schedule. LAX is really not designed for pedestrians. That place is so huge. And Delta is all the way over at Terminal 5. I guess that's still better than if it had been all the way at the end, but my hips weren't too into being grateful for small mercies at that point. Besides, my plan hinged on me actually running into my dad, since my phone had only a few precious moments of talk time left, so timing was important.

I found the terminal where the plane was set to arrive and I settled in to wait. And wait. And wait some more. I took out my phone and turned it back on. No messages. I called my dad. No answer. What was going on? I didn't have much time to find out, my battery was getting lower by the second.

I called my mom to make sure I didn't have the wrong airline. "Hey, Dad's flying on Delta right?", I said. "Yea, I think so," she replied, somewhat incredulously. "Ok good, because I've been waiting here for like 45 minutes and he still hasn't come down--," I shot back before she interrupted. "Oh no! He's coming next Thursday! Did you think he was coming today?", she asked, and continued before I could respond, "He thought you were coming today!" She's talking to him. He's right next to her. Well done Luke.
 
It's rather disappointing to expect your father to be visiting you for the next several days and then find out that he's not coming. I mean, at least he's coming next week, but it's still a bit of a letdown for me. Through a series of miscommunications, and probably a small amount of wishful thinking on my part, I had indeed managed to convince myself that my dad was coming a week before he actually was. Just one of those many small mistakes one makes in one's lifetime. But this one is gonna stick with me for a while.

I quickly wrapped up the conversation, with just about 1% battery life, then removed the battery to preserve that percentage point as much as possible. I was gonna need that last drop of juice before this night was over. And my night was far from over. I was on my own now.

Some of you more forward (or backward?) thinking people may have recalled that I had been planning to return to my home in Burbank (a mere 30 miles away) via by dad's rental car. Stranded and alone, many miles from home, I had to move on to Plan B. I made for the Metro station.

Now this part of the journey was, thankfully, fairly uneventful. I mean, I was quite tired from my hike and had not been planning to walk much more the rest of the night. But riding on the Metro isn't terribly news worthy for most people, and is downright commonplace for millions. For me, this was the farthest distance I had ever had to cover on public transit, by a fair margin, so it was somewhat noteworthy in that regard.

From the Green line, to the Blue line to the Red line, I made the switches and sat in silence. The approximately hour and a half long ride gave me lots of time to reflect and think about things. Unfortunately, I had already used up a lot of my thoughts on the long walk preceding this, so I wasn't left with much. I did spend a fair amount of time thinking about what I would do when I arrived at my destination though.

As you may recall from just a few paragraphs ago, my phone was on it's last leg. And I had shortsightedly given my last bits of change to a homeless man along the way, meaning payphones weren't a viable option either. So I had one shot, maybe less, to get a call to a friend and get them to pick me up at the station or I'd be potentially facing another 4.5 miles of walking to get home. I had to call someone that wouldn't be busy, but who was also someone that would be willing to help me out. Someone close would be best. And I had to talk fast.

After much consideration, I called my buddy Graham Richardson. And praise Jesus, he was available and willing to come pick me up without much explanation for why I needed to be picked up at a Metro station in the first place. Seconds after I hung up the phone, it died. Awesome, pulled it off.

Crap, I didn't tell him my phone was gonna die.

Long story short, I eventually tracked Graham down in the parking lot, about 5-10 minutes after he had arrived. We were on opposite ends of the parking lot and neither of us wanted to move for fear of missing the other.

There you have it. All told, this adventure took me about 8 1/2 hours. As I said before, quite an eventful day that ultimately led nowhere. But boy would it have been better with a partner...

Sorry for the traveling break

We're back. Let the great experiment recommence!

I pounded frantically at Derek's door. Even now I remember not knowing what I was going to say when I saw my friend. How could I explain what I was running from? If I told him I was terrified of a spooky feeling I had encountered in the woods, I'd never hear the end of it. What was I going to tell him?

The door opened before I could come up with something. "Mitchell? What's wrong?", he asked. "Ghosts!", I blurted out. Maybe I should have just gone with the truth after all. "In the woods," I added hasitly in anticipation of his next question. "Don't stupid. There's no such thing as ghosts," he shot back as I pushed past him and into, what I believed to be, the relative safety of his house.

After I had a chance to calm down, I was able to shake it off and we played inside throughout the rest of the day. Of course, Derek made sure all of our games involved ghosts somehow, but I was able to keep a straight face about it. I knew it would only get worse if he knew how much it bothered me. I was almost able to convince myself that it didn't bother me even. Almost.

But as I lay in my sleeping bag that night, in the basement of Derek's house, my thoughts strayed once again to that fateful encounter in the woods. The memory almost seemed to feed off of the fear deep within me. I knew I wouldn't be free of it until I faced it again. I had to know, for better or for worse, what could cause such a thing.

I'm pretty brave, I thought. I'll bet Derek wouldn't want to face something like that. He'd be too scared for sure. I comforted myself with these reassurances as my eyes became heavier and heavier. He's not worthy, I added, before going on to think that it was a strange thought to have just as I drifted in unconsciousness and both thoughts escaped from my waking mind.