My prior blog post suggested that facing ourselves honestly and showing up vulnerably with others are necessary for any of the nine Enneagram types to move toward health.

“Yeah, but…” most of us immediately think.

It used to be physically painful for me – as an “8” on the Enneagram – to be vulnerable with others, to share information they might potentially use to hurt me.

Over the years, I built up a thick layer of emotional armor that I knew was making it difficult for me to develop deep relationships. Turns out, it was even more damaging than that: It was keeping me from growing into the healthier person I have the potential to become.

What does vulnerability mean?
It means we open ourselves up to another person, making ourselves susceptible to being wounded or rejected.
Really wounded.
It means we’re willing to look someone in the eyes – or write words someone can read – someone who can seriously harm us, and divulge who we really are, warts and all.

Why do we fear vulnerability?
It’s pretty obvious. My husband, Ed, said it so well in his response to the prior blog post.
Many of us have believed since we were little kids that if people find out who we really are, especially the broken parts of us, they will surely reject us. Some of us have endured the painful consequences of showing our true colors, and have concluded that it’s much safer to appear to be perfect and strong.

The antidote is trust, right?
Yes, but trust is a big word.
I believe if we’re really honest with ourselves, the circle of people we really trust is a very small one for most of us.
Trust allows us to express our thoughts and feelings openly and vulnerably, without fearing ridicule or rejection. Those whom we trust have seen us at our absolute worst and are still in our corner.

I’m fortunate that Ed is at the center of my small circle of trust. He not only reads my vulnerable posts and embarrassing memoir, but also helps me write and edit each one of them. We both firmly believe that much unnecessary suffering can end if we engage with others to uncover and discuss the many imperfections that lie underneath the surface of all of our perfect facades.

So does it still scare me to be vulnerable?
It doesn’t scare me to be completely vulnerable with Ed.

It’s also easy for me to be vulnerable with readers who are complete strangers, and whose worst weapon against me is a nasty comment on my blog page.

But then there are those of you in between – those of you in my larger circle of friends and family, who know me, but whom I’ve not yet learned to fully trust. You’re the people I think about when I share aspects of my life I have good cause to be embarrassed about or ashamed of.

And yes, that still scares me.

But really, what‘s the point of having relationships with people if we can’t have sticky, messy, real relationships that will help each of us grow toward greater wholeness?