Only the brave have a seat at the table of Vulnerability.

Theodore Roosevelt made a speech on April 23rd,1910 that gifted us with his Man in the Arena quote. This snippet of his speech has informed my life in a profound way. With the sudden switch in my way of living, I have had time on my hands to reflect. Of course, I am still teaching online and going to graduate school but most importantly, I am taking time to grapple with the big questions. And in this process, I decided to write a couple of blog posts of my findings on my journey of self-discovery. So here it goes.

At the end of 2018, my obsession with TED talks came back to bite me when I discovered Dr. Brene Brown's "The Power of Vulnerability." It was the most real TED talk I had watched. I was in my last year of undergraduate study and everyone was asking me, "WHAT IS NEXT!" Every time someone asked me this question, I went blank. But a coping mechanism that has worked for me over the years, came in handy during this time. I would respond with what makes the most sense or what would make the other person happy. My response was usually along the lines of finding a job with an architectural firm in New York, Chicago, Seattle or San Francisco. Was this a very possible outcome for me at the end of undergrad, absolutely. But was this the outcome I wanted? Not even close. But if the other person left me alone and walked away smiling, that would buy me some time to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life. I was going through a very scary time in my life.

Not knowing what tomorrow holds, gives me extreme anxiety. I plan my life a year ahead of time because I do not like to leave things to chance. However, what came out of living like that, is it was difficult for me to live in the present. I never enjoyed living in the moment because I was too busy making sure that in 6 months I would be safe, healthy and most importantly FINANCIALLY STABLE.

When I heard Dr. Brene Brown define vulnerability as, "having the courage to show up when you can't control the outcome," I almost got a heart attack. What do you mean when you can't control the outcome. For so long I had held unto this control over my life and placed all the backup plans strategically so that I would be ready in case someone decided to pull the rug from underneath me. I always expected the worst. I guess this explains my anxiety.

Now that brings us to October 16th, 2019. I woke up and the first thing I did was listen to my schedule for the day. Something that I had worked on in 2019 was taking the first hour of the day to organize my mind and reflect on how I would like to intentionally spend my day. I did not check my phone. Any other day of that year, that would have been a great choice. But on this day, in particular, it was the worst decision I could have ever made. Or so I thought.

As an educator, I was excited to walk into my first-grade classroom and teach these eager students. I have the privilege to live alone, so each morning I get a chance to run through my schedule without any interruptions. Before I ran out the door, I remembered that I needed to check with my colleague at work via email before the start of the school day. It was while I was checking my email that I saw the text from my mother. My grandmother had passed away. All the strategies I had put in place for moments like this kicked in. I checked in with my dad to make sure he was ok and reassured him that I would be home as soon as I was done with work.

Looking back, I do not remember how I made it through this day. I did not talk to anyone about what had just happened. As an educator, I am always conscious to leave my stuff at the door so that once I walk into my classroom, I only bring what I need to be as effective an educator as I can be. Had you walked by me that day, you could not tell that my family had just lost their matriarch.

Once the school day ended, I drove home. My mother reached out to give me a hug. My mum is my soulmate. We are kindred spirits. We can feel each other's presence from across the room. She knows when I need a hug or when I need to be left alone. She could tell there was a break down about to happen. But I dismissed her. I was quick to ask her, what she needed. My father was in too much shock to even talk to anyone. I did not expect anything different from someone who had just lost his mother.

That night our family home was flooded with family and friends. I was focused on making sure my father could fly home to bury his mother and making sure our guests had something to eat. When I crawled into bed that night, I was physically exhausted. But emotionally at an impasse. The mass to celebrate my grandmother's life was scheduled for the next day. You best believe, I went to work. And once I left work, I drove straight to the church. I had to make sure my family was OK. The women in my family have been known to have strong backbones and shoulders. We carry everyone else when the world is falling apart. And it was surely falling apart at that moment.

But as I changed into the clothing for mass it happened. That moment when a chill runs down your body and now you know that you are about to face a negative emotion. I was scared like never before. I had never allowed myself to get to this moment in my entire life. I was losing control and it was such an unfamiliar place to be. If this was what Dr. Brene Brown was talking about when she talked about Vulnerability, I did not like it. It was uncomfortable and even worse, it was about to be very painful. I had to face the fact that I was never going to see my DhaDha (In my native language means GrandMother) alive again. I was thrown into the arena. I couldn't hide from my emotions anymore.

The priest that day during his sermon talked about loss and how it was the price of love. He went on to talk about why it hurt differently when you loved someone unconditionally. It threw me back to when I was a child and refused to go to funerals. My father would try everything and I would always choose to stay home with a caretaker than to go to a funeral. My relatives often attributed it to fear of death. But after I listened to Dr. Brene Brown, now I know that it was fear of loss. Death takes away and that is something I cannot control. As someone that loves wholeheartedly, I rather love enough and not fully because death will take that person away. And I know I will not take it well. One of the hardest emotions for me to process is loss. I fall apart into a million pieces and no one but myself can pick up the pieces. Loss really is the price of love. And for so long, that was too high a price to pay.

At the end of Mass, my father was asked to speak. My father is a man of few words and little to no emotion. He thanked all our friends and family for coming. Then he talked about the amazing life, my grandmother lived. She worked so hard to make sure that her children had everything. If it wasn't for her, our family might not have had some of the opportunities that we have gotten to this day. At the end of his speech, he went on to bid her farewell, "Goodbye to the Greatest woman I have ever known."

I lost it the moment his voice cracked. All the emotions I had been too scared to embrace or even battle with came flowing in. And I had to battle with the fact that I had just lost someone I had risked to love unconditionally. I forgot to set up the backup plan. I remember our friends and family came by the front of the church to give us their condolences and I couldn't talk. I was crying uncontrollably. For someone who was looking at me, all you could see was me starring out in the distance with tears flowing down my face. I couldn't explain what was happening to me. But what I can say for sure is I was experiencing true and authentic heartbreak for the first time in my entire life. And it hurt so bad. It hurt worse than any physical pain I had ever experienced.

That moment put me on a journey of grief. A week after her death, I was back to my regular routine. But I was never the same person again. For weeks I walked around as a shell of a person. I would meet people and they would ask, "You seem rather humble than you usually are." or ask questions like, "Were you that close to your grandmother?" And usually, I would walk away or just stare in silence. For so long I would get upset at these comments. How dare that person say that, was my favorite line. I was angry. My emotions were off the charts. I could go from laughing with you to crying uncontrollably in a matter of seconds.

I remember someone, I thought I loved called me selfish because I chose me during this time and he couldn't understand why. If you have been in a relationship before, you know how disruptive it can be to a relationship if you choose yourself over your relationship. Often times your partner thinks you are not choosing them. And yet it just means you are choosing to not put your relationship first and trusting that he or she knows you enough to understand that if you are not whole you can not fully give yourself to your relationship let alone choose it over yourself.

Summary of the story, I went through the worst heartbreak and a break up in a space of 7 days. I actually thought I was dying while walking on planet earth. I went to church for the first time after my grandmother had died two weeks later, and the reading that was taken in the church that day was the same reading I took during my grandmother's mass. I cried my way through that mass.

Fast forward to when the quarantine happened. And I had time to read through my journals from last year. I came to the page where I wrote Man in the Arena by Theodore Roosevelt which says, "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, where the doer of deeds could have done better."

For so long, I kept love as far from me as I could. And when I had to battle with loss or pain in relationships, I was more than happy to let go of the relationship than do the hard work. I never wanted to deal with pain or discomfort. I had come to be known as the person that doesn't give anyone the liberty to feel comfortable being a part of my life. I was famously quoted, "Do not be mistaken, I will walk away if I am taken for granted." Because I almost instinctively expected to be taken for granted.

"The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming,"

Dealing with loss has given me a renewed sense of authenticity in love. There have been a number of panic attacks and a number of nights that I have cried myself to sleep, but I rather feel the effect of pain and disappointment than push it away in a corner and hope it disappears. I lived that life for over 20 years, and we now all know where it left me. Absolutely BROKEN.

Each tear has taught me to treasure the smiles. Every time someone disappointed me, I have learned that it is ok. People disappoint. It is not a testament to who you are but rather your response is what truly matters. I have also learned that second and even third chances are ok. But the most important thing is to set up boundaries. If someone disappoints you, always choose to forgive but be sure to let them know that, "What you did was not acceptable. And this is what is acceptable." Once they disappoint you once more, you are allowed to remove their privileges to be a part of your life. Because at that point they do not care about you anymore. But to simply brush off disappointment as, "That is exactly who he or she is," is the easy way out. And oftentimes, it comes back to bite you.

"but who does actually strive to do deeds; who knows great enthusiasm; who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails which daring greatly,"

I am a much more daring version of myself than I was five months ago. I always tried things but had a Plan B, C, D, and E if it is needed. Now I am more open to try out a new venture and open to the possibility that it might fail. Should it fail, it will suck and there might be so many I TOLD YOU SOs but at least I will have zero WHAT IFs. And for me, that is a small cost.

"so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

I am more fulfilled knowing that when I get to love, I love as wholeheartedly as I can and get to enjoy being loved and being able to love. When the moment comes and I do not have that love in my life anymore, I will look back and treasure the memories rather than focus on the loss of the love because of the WHAT IFs I would have because I never got to enjoy the love while it lasted.

During this time at home, I have been writing a lot in my journal. Who knows what I will do with these journals? But as a huge believer in living a life of constant gratitude, journaling the things I am grateful for every day has made me do the work. What am I truly grateful for? Not what the world tells me to be grateful for but what my heart tells me.

A few days ago, I sat on my computer having lunch on a Zoom call with my family and as my father cracked jokes and we all laughed, I had an AN-HA moment. I am so grateful for the opportunity to love and be loved authentically, sincerely and truthfully by my family. And when I am not here anymore, I hope they can say I loved them as fearlessly and as genuinely as they could have hoped for.

I had the pleasure to have a real conversation with one of my friends. We all have those friends that can have those deep conversations that others find very boring. And he told me, his words not mine, "I think you are the most secure and whole person I have ever met. You just instinctively know that you are enough." And I was rendered speechless. Because 5 months ago, that would have been the biggest lie ever told. And I am not sure if this is even true today. I am such a work in progress. However, I am happily still working on my masterpiece.

We went on to talk about how I do not fret small things anymore and live life for what it is. The complicated and profound phenomenon that is impossible to completely figure out. As he went on to talk to me, I could see the version of myself that constantly walked on eggshells in him. But I was sure to share that, "I have a family that loves me unconditionally. That love has given me the room to live fearlessly. That daring lifestyle is what often comes off as being a whole person that knows I am enough. That has not always been the case and I will not invalidate the growth I have made to get here. But I have had to do the work."

So take this time at home and do the work. Pull the walls down. Take the armor down. Give the sarcasm a rest. Take a deep breath and let someone in. Embrace that emotion you have been running away from. Step up and speak your truth. Most importantly dare to feel. Take the leap of faith and I promise you, it will be worth it.

Stay Home and Stay Healthy,

Patricia.