Is Being Authentic Having the Courage to Be Vulnerable?

To me, being authentic feels like discovering the boundless existence behind the perception of self, accepting the self that has been formed so far, and expressing all its reality with vulnerability.

Emotions seem to hold the key to authenticity. The extent to which you can feel, stay with, and express your emotions acts like a playmate that brings you closer to yourself and takes you on a journey of self-discovery.

Having suppressed my feelings and buried them under anger for a long time, I was overly polite and well-behaved. I avoided conflicts, experienced emotions through others, and, unable to make sense of my feelings, I couldn’t express them boldly. Maybe I would get hurt, feel offended, but I would always keep it inside, stay silent, and even put on a fake smile. I remember a few moments when I realized I couldn’t properly experience any emotion.

When I first left home for university and separated from my family, I didn’t feel any sadness. When my parents left me, crying, not a tear fell from my eyes. Later, when my grandmother passed away while I was away, I couldn’t feel deep sadness again. I would only cry when my emotions, suppressed in certain situations, surfaced with anger. I had confused controlling emotions with suppressing them.

The strange thing was, even in my happy moments, my emotions were absent... I couldn’t rejoice; no one has ever heard me scream with joy. I didn’t feel satisfaction from any of my life’s successes or completions for a long time. For me, it was always what should have been done. There was a task, and I had no other way than to work and achieve it with the belief that this was the only path for me. I was alien to excitement, love, and happiness.

How could I so easily read the emotional states and needs of the people I encountered and connected with, yet be so disconnected from my own emotions?

During a session at a seminar where I would meet and make peace with the feeling of anger, I heard my own voice for the first time. I screamed for the first time, felt anger in my belly for the first time. The anger I had accumulated under all that softness and delicacy scared me. The shame I felt afterward was perhaps proof of why I had kept it hidden for so long.

For years, I had avoided conflict and the anger and shame that would arise, fleeing from them. My skills in smelling conflict or crisis from ten steps away had not allowed much opportunity for this. So, anger and shame had become huge clouds in my body that suppressed my desires and covered my wants, making me unable to say no.

The belief that I must be perfect, I must be harmonious, and therefore only then I can be loved and accepted had alienated me from myself.

Oddly enough, despite appearing so naive, the energy of the suppressed anger was felt. Everyone I connected with was afraid of making mistakes around me. Sometimes a single look, sometimes my silence, and sometimes a sentence spoken without changing my tone would wound people. The price of not confronting my own anger was heavy for others as well. I had lived with a fake self as if good feelings were mine and bad feelings never existed.

In this process, when I learned how ruthless and tyrannical I had been to myself and that I didn’t love myself as I was, I was devastated. Accepting my mistakes and failures, being kind to myself, loving myself without judgment, blame, or punishment was not something I knew.

Yet, accepting my being with all its aspects, embracing my strengths and weaknesses, my mistakes and successes as they are, owning my story was one of the cornerstones of authenticity. How could living a life without owning the challenges and successes I experienced be authentic... Making peace with each part that makes me who I am and integrating them was the path to authenticity.

Being authentic means accepting vulnerability and courageously sharing that vulnerability. That’s why I share this writing with you. Because I heal as I write. As I share and become vulnerable, I forgive myself more. It’s not easy for the pieces I’ve hidden for years to become visible, but these wounds don’t belong to me; they belong to humanity. And as long as they remain hidden, these wounds do not heal, their pain doesn’t cease.

Vulnerability brings risk, being defenseless, facing uncertainties, and experiencing disappointment.

Despite all this, I have been waking up to the idea that I am lovable and enough just by being as I am. Even if I don’t solve people’s problems, prioritize them, or be successful, I love my existence. I don’t say yes to anything that doesn’t sit well with me, that my soul doesn’t accept, and I don’t participate in any environment. Every time I express my truth bravely, my wounds heal more. Every moment I say yes to myself, my being becomes alive and shines.

At this point, I realize that I can accompany you as much as I accompany my own journey. The more I face difficult emotions, the more I can stay with you in those emotions, the more I express my vulnerability and offer myself to you like an instrument, the more I know you will trust the space I will open.

Looking at emotions is like looking into a dark, deep well, but at the bottom of that well, there are treasures belonging to you, maybe your strength is hidden at the very bottom of that well. Come on, don’t be afraid to enter, jump in!

With love,

Sara.