A Piece of My Writing: Vulnerability

We respond differently to the trauma of separation from our first mothers. A year ago, I wrote a piece on vulnerability. I have always struggled with it. I was starting to see the potential connection between the two. A year later, knowing so much more about it all, I can say that I was definitely on to something…


Let’s talk about vulnerability.

How many of you struggle with this?

I find it very difficult to be vulnerable or show any kind of weakness.

I have only ever cried willingly in front of one person when sad or hurt.

I have ever only opened up fully to one person about issues that have affected me or bothered me, from issues in my family growing up.

I have ended numerous friendships for different B.S. reasons once they got to a certain point of closeness, rather than let them get too close to where I would have to really be myself – because most of the time I’m not sure who that even is.

I tend to flight rather than fight when things get tough around me, as in breaking an engagement when things were getting hectic and life was stressing me out.

I love the idea of starting over in a new place where nobody knows me and I can decide who to be. Until I build friendships and things get settled and it’s time to start letting people in.

There is nothing I hate more than having to admit to being wrong. As if I’m afraid that by admitting to being wrong, or having made a mistake, I become less loveable, less acceptable in the eyes of the person I apologize to.

And the slightest hint of someone making fun of me, even when done lovingly, infuriates me. I wish I could laugh at myself more, but again, it’s tied to being vulnerable, which I really struggle with.

Even writing this, knowing I will post it is hard for me…

Could it be that being abandoned as a baby, which is what my adoption papers say I was, has traumatized me to the point of being afraid to let people in? I was found by a woman in the street, abandoned, and she kept me for a month and when she couldn’t find my mother she brought me to the police. They say that even as babies being abandoned can traumatize us. I’ve never done much to explore this because I always pushed the idea to the side, calling myself the success story of adoption. Exploring any potential negative effects of my background would mean having to be open to vulnerability. And I never have been. I’m only now starting to invite the idea into my mind…


Written by

Amanda Medina

December 1st, 2017


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