“Vulnerability is the only way through the wall that separates us from each other.” ~ Brené Brown
Every time I share a deep personal story – an article, posting a piece of my story somewhere or to someone – there is a part of me that gives energy. I feel an urgent pull to share now. The belief that some people will have to listen to it and feel lonely. And it often helps me to understand my own experiences as well. Although I do not always know about it, there are high reasons that guide me.
Storytelling is a treat – for writers, storytellers and readers alike. True human experience is powerful.
And yet… After clicking “print” or opening my heart to a friend or loved one, something familiar will come after sharing.
A wave. An intensity. Tightness in my chest. Feeling overwhelmed in my stomach. The second guess.
Am I talking too much? Am I sharing too much? Is that courage – or does not care? Am I still loved and accepted now that I am seen like this?
I remember the first time I shared something in-depth in a public post. I wrote about a time from a yoga retreat when our group was walking through the Australian rainforest and came to a small stream that shone like it was waiting for us. The water is clear, fresh and very attractive. None of us brought a swimsuit – swimming was not part of the plan.
That has not stopped some women. Feeling liberated and deeply connected, they took off their shirts and swam naked in the creek. I stood there calmly, admiring their courage and bravery.
I hesitated to catch between the desire to participate and the sound of my relaxation: my body was not perfect, not too thin after my mother gave birth and I did not shave for a while…
I finally let go and partially took off my clothes. I stepped into a stream, letting the water embrace me. In the meantime, I felt a release that I did not know I needed. My skin gets a fresh and cool feeling of spring on me. My body – with its newly discovered curve, tenderness and life – is a miracle ship for experience, not a source of shame. I feel alive.
I excitedly clicked “Print” on the story. Immediately after the publication, the waves arrived: a ball in my stomach, a lump in my sunlight. Shame. Shame. Am I exposing too much? Am I a female coach talking about the naked body in the face of my insecurities? What will my customers think?
But the response was nice. The woman responded by saying that the story had been raised. Some people remember that magical day. Others acknowledge their own struggles with Body image. Some have been inspired. The first act of vulnerability – raw human imperfection – planted a seed beyond my comprehension.
This experience taught me something important: The strength we feel after sharing does not mean that we have done something wrong. It means we have touched the real thing.
Now I share more and more of myself: the perception of failure, the hope, the insecurity, and the wisdom I gain from experience. I keep pushing the edge of my comfort zone by recently sharing personal stories like mine Diagnosis of ADHD And recently, my strong views on the causes and current social problems.
Every time I step into a space outside my comfort zone, I feel it again: the nervous system response is raw and real. But every time the intensity is a little lighter and I experience it with more patience, compassion and understanding.
Vulnerable sharing remains an act of truth, trust and connection.
Hangover vulnerabilities no one talks about
What I have learned is that this emotion is incredibly normal. Some people call it a hangover vulnerability – an emotional arousal that occurs after an opening.
When we share something real, we walk away from our protection. We allow ourselves to be seen. And as time goes on, the nervous system asks very old questions:
“Am I safe now?”
Those questions can manifest as sadness, anxiety, shame, regret, fear of rejection, or the urge to withdraw and hide. It does not mean sharing is wrong. It means we are human – and have a string for belonging.
Oversharing Vs. Conscious Sharing
For a long time, I thought this wave meant I shared more. Now I see it differently.
Excess sharing is not about the amount you show. It’s about how and why you show it. Sharing often occurs when:
- We share to Control our emotions. Instead of holding ourselves first.
- The wound is still bleeding, not forming a soft scar.
- We seek the assurance, validity or rescue of others.
- We share regardless of container or contact.
- We feel hopeless, ashamed, or separated later.
Sharing more than this is not a failure, it is a sign that part of us needs more support before it can be seen.
On the other hand, conscientious sharing:
- Born out of attachment rather than the need for emotional control.
- Occurs intentionally and optionally.
- Respect the time, BordersAnd context.
- Leave us gentle but still.
- Feeling we have ‘Run out of gas’ emotionally.
Both can be emotional. There is only one who honors us.
Questions that change the way I share
Before sharing now – whether in writing or in conversation – I paused and asked myself some simple questions:
“Am I sharing completeness or am I asking for detention?”
There is no judgment in the answer. Both are deeply human.
If I request a celebration, I know sharing may be more appropriate for a private venue, a resourceful place, a friendly treat, a diary, or just sitting with myself.
If I share completeness – even gentleness – I believe in it more.
“Who needs to listen and what exactly to say?”
This question invites me to walk away from creating it. I And serving the message – intent and mission deeper of the story.
If the honest answer is that I am talking to a specific person that I am upset about, then I know that a private conversation would be more appropriate.
But if the answer is yes, this is for women who live with self-doubt or seek similar experiences in silence and loneliness, then I believe this. I believe it brings wisdom that it can be healing and that it means sharing.
When the next feeling is still coming
Even being aware of the vulnerabilities aligned can make you feel refreshed later. Expressing emotions does not mean that you have shared more. It often means you have touched the real thing.
For Easy-going peoplePeople who are deeply emotional and very sensitive, vulnerable, activate the nervous system. And the nervous system does not speak logically – it speaks emotionally.
That is why we take care of ourselves after sharing is just as important as sharing ourselves.
How I feed myself after vulnerabilities
I have learned not to rush through the consequences — to be gentle. The river of inner love.
Here’s what helped me after I shared something vulnerable:
1. Mark the end
I turned it off consciously – I turned off my laptop, put my phone down, and washed my hands.
I speak calmly“What to share is shared.”
2. Come back to me.
A hand on my heart. Take a deep breath. Breathe longer. Gentle stretching.
No analysis – just presence. I imagine the intensity of the feeling I felt wrapped in the inner river of love as I breathed in and out.
3. Be a witness of my courage
Instead of replaying the story, I acknowledge this:
“That’s brave.”
“I did not give up on myself.”
“I chose to stand by myself”
4. Reclaim my borders
I imagine my energy coming back to me and doing the following:
“What is mine, I leave what is not mine, I release.”
5. Normal land.
A hot tea. A shower. A walk. Something simple and human. Life goes on. I’m safe.
The deeper the truth, the more I believe
For a long time, especially women, we have been taught to call truth-telling “over-sharing.” Not because it’s wrong, but because it makes others uncomfortable.
The goal is no less honest.
We do not have to soften our stories, hide our feelings, or adjust our facts to make others feel better. Honesty is not an issue, it is a path to communication, healing and self-awareness.
The goal is to be more honest with ourselves.
Honesty means sharing our alignment, paying attention to our boundaries, and leaning toward ourselves later.
It means knowing the difference between an open wound that needs more internal help before delivery and a scar that can be safely held in the hands of others.
When we are honest with ourselves, vulnerability becomes a gift – both to us and to those who receive our message – because we remain the same, fundamental and whole, even though we are deeply seen.
Some things treat us privately.
Some treat collectively.
Some seeds are planted quietly, we never see how they grow.
And sometimes the intensity after sharing is just the nervous system learning that it is visible and still safe.
The Mantra I Return to
When in doubt, I say again:
“I share fullness, not hunger.”
“I believe in my chosen part of speaking.”
And I let it be enough.
