vulnerable

i'm freaking out and i'm not sure how exactly to respond to my mom's text, "how are you?"

well, i'm freaking out, that's how i'm doing. and i don't know what to do to make my anxiety go away. my anxiety tonight isn't going to go away. it's the kind of anxiety that i am walking straight into. tomorrow, i'm going to walk into a room of 150 women, whom i don't know, and tell them my story. i'm going into a silent space where my voice will be amplified. and in the simplest of words i'll let them into my heart, peek into my soul. and this night, with fire crackling and Christmas music soothing and tea warming, i think there is no other way to share my soul, to be vulnerable, without anxiety, without a tad of freak out. being vulnerable is peeling back my skin and saying this is who i am, will you still love me? and when i'm done and walk to my sit will i feel shame? will i wonder what thoughts are running through their heads? will i sneak out and make a mad dash for the parking lot? yes, probably all three. it's vulnerable to be ask to be loved as you truly are, but there is no love without vulnerability. none. love and vulnerability are of the same breath. and in one breath a baby entered the world thousands of years ago. for what is more vulnerable than a baby? what is more fragile, tender, and captivating than the first moment of life? he was a vulnerable soul, born into a tragic terrain, that became the source for the very existence of love at all.