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?
It was a slippery slope of lots of pitfalls and never truly feeling like I was on solid ground.
But now I think things are different. I’m not going go so far as saying I’ll be back to former days of glory (or delusion depending on which way you look at it).
I think how things will be different in that I’ve failed countless times and beaten myself up enough on “how things should be” with where I’m at in my life. Instead, I feel wiser and ever more slightly cognizant of what truly makes me happy versus the things that used to make me truly happy and grateful for all that’s come into my life.
Here’s to the umpteenth time that I’m picking myself up. Cheers.