This post is a true, vulnerable and honest confession. I’ve had difficulties with relationships my entire life. It’s been difficult if not impossible to understand how people relate to, interact with and make connections with each other. Family relationships have been especially hard as well as romantic ones. I’ve come to realize that certain situations in my family relationships have caused me to withdraw parts of myself from having meaningful and deep connections with others, especially romantic partners.

Being vulnerable is an essential part of meaningful and deeply connected relationships. It is also one of the things that can cause us to feel unbalanced, raw and exposed. Unless we can get in touch and in tune with that soft, underbelly of ourselves, we cannot have that thing that we yearn for, search for and struggle to find.

Over the course of the past 18 months, I’ve been intent on sharing more and more of myself which means being vulnerable. I’ve had to ask for forgiveness from my sons for the times I wasn’t available for them – both physically and emotionally. I’ve had to let friendships go when I recognized repeating patterns that were unhealthy. I’ve had to open doors that I’ve closed to situations because they were  too painful to face. I’ve had to allow others to see me…up close and personal…and my wounds.

Wounds stay hurting, unhealed and aching until we reach a point that we know we have to take the band-aid off. The band-aid is temporary and, not only does it disguise the wound, it also keeps it from healing properly. I’ve put so many band-aids on that I’ve got layers and layers of them. I realized that putting a band-aid on has become my M.O. It was becoming easier and easier to do this than to expose my wound to air and allow my feelings to heal.

And slowly, over time (actually the last 5 years) I’ve cautiously, meticulously and intentionally removed one band-aid at a time while making the effort NOT to put any more on. It’s been incredibly difficult as I’ve had to expose myself in a way I’ve never done before. You see, in the past when I’ve revealed my true self, it’s been used against me. Unfortunately, there are people in my life and in yours that have agendas. I know this isn’t right but sometimes it is human nature.

The real challenge, and the one thing I’ve been holding back in all of my relationships is to expose my wounds, allow people to see how deep they are and to hopefully help me heal them. I’ve finally realized I can’t heal on my own. I have to let others help me and to ask for help. Asking for help can be as difficult as removing the band-aids. It takes a level of trust in the other person as well as ourselves. Exposing my wounds is complete and utter vulnerability. Not just some of my wounds, but all of them.

I’ve held back different parts of myself from different people:  family, friends, acquaintances, colleagues. No one has seen all of me; all of my wounds, all of my hurts, all of my vulnerability. I’ve also identified some very beautiful, loving and supportive people that are in my life – friends, family and most especially, a new love. I made the commitment several months ago to allow my wounds to show and wrote a blog post “A Letter of Disclosure to My Future Partner”. I believe exposing myself publicly in this way, set the stage and opened the door for where I am right now.

If I can’t expose myself in public, how can I expose myself in private? And how can I expect to get to know someone when I won’t allow them to get to know me? I also know this can only occur over time in a situation with a person who is patient and where I feel safe. I had to tell my new love about what I had written, reveal this letter to him and allow him to see how wounded I am. I had to let him know sooner rather than later to be up front with the person he was involved with. I could not continue to hide under the band-aids and had to take them off, every single one. I know I’m wounded and I’m constantly working on it. The beautiful thing about this man is that he shared some similar thoughts and quotes about pain and vulnerability. He has been working on those things in himself which is both beautiful and comforting.

I had to talk to my dad and his wife, Lynn, about how I’ve not felt like I could tell them everything that’s been going on with me. They are both so kind and so unconditionally loving that I began to feel guilty when I wasn’t telling them everything. I had the mindset that my problems would be a burden to them when exactly the opposite was true. When I finally revealed my wounds, they received them with love, understanding and patience for allowing me to tell them in my own time.

I had to ask for forgiveness from my sons for not showing up for them for many, many years. This big, open, gaping, exposed wound where I was told I was a disruption to them, a dead-beat mom and I didn’t deserve to have a relationship with them. I believed all those fake stories until one day my pain was so great that I recognized their pain must be hurting them too. I had to reveal my pain to them so that they would know that what I did was not intentional. I made the promise to be better, be different and be available for them at all times. When I finally revealed my wounds, they forgave me, told me how much they love me, and we agreed to heal together.

I had to verbalize gratitude for my long-time friend, Janet, who has been with me longer than anyone else. We met after my divorce and she’s seen me go through enormous changes and helped me through most of them. She’s been patient with me; allowing me space and time and, most importantly, not pushing me past where I could go. Her heart, home and acceptance has been transformational. I saw that our relationship had been lopsided for a while and that it was my responsibility to create a more balanced and more connected bond.

I have been wounded because I have chosen to live life.

I’ve jumped in over and over and allowed pain to be part of my life.

It is only by experiencing pain that I can feel joy and pleasure.

The joy of creating a better relationship with my sons. The joy of continuing an unconditional, loving relationship with my dad and Lynn. The joy of contributing to a better-balanced relationship with Janet. The joy and pleasure of creating a new life filled with healing, love, support, encouragement and security with King. My wounds are healing one by one through allowing others to see me, revealing my pain and being vulnerable through truth, trust and honesty.