There have been a few times over the last year+ of blogging and writing social media posts when I suffered from near immediate regret after clicking that “publish” button. A little blogger’s remorse, if you will. As soon as my words were released into the public sphere, I wished for the power to reach my hand into my computer and retrieve them.
Sometimes it was because I had shared something a little personal—a fear, a dream, a story of rejection. Other times it was simply a feeling of uncertainty—will my perspective be offensive, judged, ignored? Did my tone and style appropriately convey the point I was trying to make?
Regardless of the reasons surrounding my self-doubt, in almost every case, the more discomfort I felt after sharing these posts, the more they seemed to resonate with others.
Why? The only common denominator I could come up with is vulnerability. These posts showed flaws and insecurities and challenges—things we all struggle with but don’t always admit to for fear of appearing foolish or weak or somehow inferior. And no one wants to wear those labels. Especially not when everybody else seems to have it all together.
But I’m learning that although vulnerability and weakness are listed as synonyms in the dictionary, that isn’t always true in real life. In fact, the ability to be vulnerable is more of a strength. An act of courage that can lead to connection. And genuine connection is the very thing for which we humans were designed.
Unfortunately, knowing and even truly believing this doesn’t make it any easier. It is likely I will still finish writing this and future posts and send them off into cyberspace with bated breath.
The difference is that in the place of that automatic reflex of regret, there is hope. Hope that these words will reach and empower and encourage. The remorse part is now reserved for other, more questionable choices. Like the perm I got a few years ago.