I used to think that vulnerability was admitting I was weak. That I wasn’t good enough. That I was incompetent and all the other insecurities I held with me that clung onto me so tightly as I aged and matured into the fine whiskey of 36 that I am.
Nowadays after surrounding myself with genuinely good people, I’m finding myself more and more anxious about things like my age (even though I look stupidly young. Thanks mom and dad for the genes!), and what station of my life I should be occupying now. It just eats away at me and paralyzes me.
But how did I arrive here? How did I devolve to this state? Lacking grit, courage, and confidence?