Free to Be Me

Version 2

It’s been awhile since I’ve experienced it: vulnerability hangover. It’s a term Brene Brown coined for that feeling of, “Did I just share too much? Is she going to think I’m way too much of a mess?” It’s enough to make you throw up a little.

But I felt that vulnerability hangover the other morning. The night before I’d spent time with someone I’ve known casually from a distance for a long time and always wanted to know better. Neither of us are shallow end of the pool kind of girls. We sat on her porch and poured out our life stories to each other, the good, bad and ugly. It felt both cathartic and terrifying.

I deeply desire to be an authentic person. I want to be someone others see as real, and who invites others to be their real selves too. Too often, though, my authenticity looks like what Don Miller describes in Scary Close, “I’m the kind of person who wants to present my most honest, authentic self to the world—so I hide backstage and rehearse honest and authentic lines until the curtain opens.”

Was I authentic with this girl? Yep. The terror came in the fact that I had no time to rehearse – it was all just out there, without filtering, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was too much. If I was too much.

But I’m learning that it’s ok, that on the path to being authentic I must be vulnerable. I must be willing to be messy. I must be willing to put who I am out there, whether or not it is exactly what I think other people want. Sometimes it will surprise them, maybe even be more than they want. But being real is not about doing it perfectly. And I’m learning that in that process, God can minister to me and through me. Here’s how I know:

We recently moved back to the U.S. after 13 years of living overseas, and started the acculturation process. Despite being back in my own country, I felt incompetent, messy, lost, uncertain. In a word, I was undone.

In the middle of my mess, I was thrown a lifeline. An acquaintance from our life overseas invited me to a process group studying the Brene Brown series Connections. I thought it would be a great opportunity to get to know a few new women in this season, maybe make some friends. I wanted them to know the real me.

Only the real me who showed up wasn’t the me I wanted them to see. It was the incompetent, messy, lost, uncertain and undone me. I wanted to be authentic, just not that authentic. I wanted my authentic self to be cool and attractive, not a blubbering mess. Every week I determined, “This week, I will not cry at group.” And every week, I cried.

But in my tears, people seemed drawn to me. They cried with me. They loved me. They shared their own stories of incompetence and mess and uncertainty. They saw me; not just the me I want them to see, but all of me. There, I found the great joy not only of being free to be myself, but in seeing how it gave others the freedom to be authentic right back.

I wish I could say that now I move forward with my authentic self confidently and consistently. The truth is, I know the enemy wants me to live in fear and to shrink back from people. There is always a lie hanging out there, waiting for me to grab hold of it, that says people would rather have some other less messy, less needy version of me, that I will be more acceptable if I present a better picture of who I am.

But where I am trying to hang my hat is the truth that God designed the true me, and He loves it. He took great delight in making me who I am, every part of me, and if He loves it, others can as well. He can love me through other people when I step out with the real me. So I keep stepping into vulnerable places, knowing that I don’t go to find approval or acceptance but simply to live freely.

This morning, I took a long walk with my new friend. I mentioned my vulnerability hangover, and she laughed and said she’d felt the same. Authenticity isn’t something we rehearse—it’s what shows up when we are free.

Gina Butz

Gina spent 13 years living overseas in Asia on crazy adventures with her stellar husband and two beautiful kids. She counts any day a good day if she is able to spend part of it creating something with her words or her hands. She hates coffee, insincerity, and being cold, which is why it's fantastic that God most recently called them to live in Orlando, Florida, where they serve in full-time ministry.

Latest posts by Gina Butz (see all)

  • Tammy Perlmutter

    I am very familiar with the vulnerability hangover!! I agree with your perception of people being drawn to you in your brokenness. Vulnerability is a rare commodity, and when someone shows it, it can be magnetic. Thank you for sharing!!

    • Gina

      You’re welcome Tammy, and thanks for your affirming words!

  • Pingback: Free to Be Me: Guest Post on Mudroom |()

  • Terri

    Good morning Gina! I love your term “vulnerability hangover!” Nails that queasy feeling perfectly. What a perfect ending to an insightful reflection on being authentic, that “me too” sentiment that your friend shared with you – the shortest distance between two souls can be “me too.” Welcome back to the US, may you enjoy a delightful fall.

    • Gina

      I like that picture, “the shortest distance between two souls can be ‘me too’.” 🙂

  • Oh the vulnerability hangover. Been. There. It can lead to self doubt and anxiety and (for me) stress eating. But I’m learning to live into the freedom of being me all the time. Thanks for telling this story Gina. Good reminders for us about how much God cares for the “real” us.

  • Gayl Wright

    “There, I found the great joy not only of being free to be myself, but in seeing how it gave others the freedom to be authentic right back.” This is what true authenticity does. When people see our flaws rather than perfections, they feel freer to be authentic themselves. I love how you ended it with how you and your friend felt that vulnerability hangover. And I love your last line about not rehearsing vulnerability but it comes when we are free.