I am not my(full potential)self when I am afraid…

As 2015 approached, I silently contemplated all the things I wanted to accomplish. I kept thinking: I’m going to write more. I’m going to lose a little weight and get fit. I’m going to connect with family and friends more. I’m going to read more. I’m going to put myself out there. But that’s just it. I kept thinking it. I didn’t want to say it, and I definitely didn’t want to write it down on paper. If I said it to someone, that someone could hold me accountable: Qiana, remember you said…??? If I wrote it down, I would have to hold myself accountable. Urgh. Damn accountability. Why is it such a struggle to be accountable…to me? Okay, moment of honesty: I am afraid. I am terribly afraid of failure, attention, expectations, etc. Whew, I said it. But this fear has to go. It’s keeping me from being my(full potential)self.

Carolyn Gregoire listed six ways to address fear in her 2013 blog The Science of Conquering Your Fears — And Living a More Courageous Life. Those ways include: Be vulnerable. Acknowledge your fears. Expose yourself to what you fear. Think positive. Manage stress. Practice courageous acts. The list seems simple enough to follow and implement, but I was stumped with the first: Be vulnerable. Dictionary.com provides the following definition of vulnerable:

vulnerable – [vuhl-ner-uh-buh l] /ˈvʌl nər ə bəl/ adjective

1. capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt, as by a weapon.
2. open to moral attack, criticism, temptation, etc.

Being vulnerable means being open to hurt, attack, and criticism. Who wants to do that? Who wants purposely to be open to hurt, attack and criticism? I don’t know how to be vulnerable. I never learned how to be vulnerable (if that’s a thing that one has to learn). I only know strength. I was taught (albeit subliminally) how to be strong. I get it from my Mama. I get it from the elder women I grew up knowing to be the pillars of the community. They were loving. They were disciplined. They were, at times, stoic. They were strong. They were not vulnerable. If they were, I didn’t see or don’t remember their vulnerability.

At some point in my life, I concluded that vulnerability is the Black woman’s kryptonite. If I am vulnerable, I am weak. Therefore, vulnerability and weakness became synonymic aspects of self that combatted my strength in every way possible. They were on a mission to break me, and I refused to be broken.

But I am broken…

If I am (allegedly) too strong to embrace vulnerability, I am broken.

If I diminish the power of growth that comes from vulnerability, I am broken.

If I let my fear of vulnerability stifle my(full potential)self, I am broken.

In 2015, I will be vulnerable, publicly vulnerable (via this blog). That’s my only resolution, goal, etc. I will be vulnerable and hope that my vulnerability will lead me to conquering fear and living a more courageous life.

I’m ready to be my(full potential) self.