You Need to Be More Vulnerable

Here’s the thing: if you can’t be vulnerable, you can’t love. Not really. You can have a companion. A body. A schedule. But not intimacy. Not growth. This is why so many people feel alone, unseen, and unloved in their relationships. It’s not that they’re with the wrong person—it’s that they’re showing up with the wrong posture. Guarded. Withholding. Half-present.

You’re not being vulnerable if, when you feel something—hurt, fear, shame, longing—you keep it to yourself or only share a carefully edited version later. You’re not being vulnerable if you spin in your emotions but never speak them aloud. You’re not being vulnerable if you won’t ask for what you need because you’re afraid of seeming needy or too much. That’s not just avoidance of others—it’s avoidance of the self. Of facing your own fear, shame, imperfection, and unmet needs. That rigidity—the need to control, to curate, to self-protect—ends up sabotaging the very closeness you crave.

Vulnerability is about being honest in the moment of feeling. And letting someone see your interior world so they can meet you there. It’s taking the risk of being seen when it would be easier to stay guarded. True vulnerability is saying: “That hurt me.” “I miss you.” “I’m scared I’m too much.” “I need to feel closer to you.”