Revealing my vulnerability

Radiotherapy took much more out of me than I expected. The journey to the hospital, waiting around and receiving the short treatment was fine. It has been the ensuing 3 weeks that has been difficult. I have been sore, very sore and I have been tired. Surprisingly too my mood has been low. You would imagine that reaching the end of treatment would be a high and it was. So why do I feel so low? Finally this week I admitted to Master, not only am I dead tired and weary but I feel depressed. Not seriously, just a little.

I have rarely in my life admitted these kind of feelings to another and I still feel slightly surprised that I can. Maybe not quite the astonished of the Wicked Wednesday prompt, but surprised all the same. Acknowledging my vulnerability to Master is something of an achievement. Admitting it to friends and family, now that would be something. But actually, I have.

There is strength in not admitting your vulnerability

That was what I believed for many years. I wanted to appear strong, not weak. But then was often surprised people did not see through it. People, including my husband used to tell me how strong I was. While all the time I would be crying inside, unsure which way to turn, what to do. There was always someone I needed to be strong for – my son who was a young child when my husband was cheating, my husband when he was made redundant, my parents when my dad was diagnosed with cancer. The list is almost endless.

The longer you keep that stiff upper lip going the tougher you and others think you are. But in the end something has to give and when I reached outside of my marriage for another man to love me I was searching for something else. It is no surprise that I found men who wanted to use my body, who wanted to restrain and beat me. Luckily I chose wisely and neither of those men turned out to be in any way abusive.

Letting go

Over the past 5 years, Master has helped me reveal my vulnerable side. He has helped peel away the layers of armour with which I had surrounded myself. I always held secrets, things I didn’t want to tell others. Sometimes because I didn’t want to hurt another, or because I wanted to hold something back. Now though, there is nothing to hide. There is nothing I can’t tell. Secrets and lies multiply over time and then when they are told they have a greater effect. By admitting a vulnerability at the time takes away some of the weight of the problem.

It is amazing I didn’t recognise this in me before. When my son was small, around 6 or 7 he worried about so many things. We found a book in the library which, was all about a little boy like him, who learnt how to share worries so they didn’t become a huge burden. It seems a shame I didn’t make the link then, as I would have saved myself a huge amount of heart ache.

Moving forward

My doctors, nurses and others said that the period just after treatment would be difficult. That people often feel vulnerable and they were right. The soreness, even though I knew it might happen, surprised me. As did the extent of the exhaustion. But thank goodness I am with someone who had listened and read about the effects of diagnosis and treatment. Someone who understands and wants to care for me.

This illness has allowed me to be vulnerable and to allow my family to see a different side of me. Some have embraced it and reassured me while others have chosen to ignore it. But it has taught me about myself and my body and about what is important. I hope that in the future I will take the memories from this experience and choose not to try to rebuild that armour. I’m sure Master will have something to say if I try.

Maybe I am a little bit astonished so this piece fits nicely into the Wicked Wednesday prompt of ‘astonish’ as well as the Safeword D/s club prompt of vulnerability.

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16 Replies to “Revealing my vulnerability”

  1. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this, Julie, and I just have to say that I am astonished at how well you have handled everything from the moment you found the lump. I think we as women many times don’t give ourselves the room to be vulnerable, because there’s always someone who we have to be strong for…

    Rebel xox

  2. There’s only one person I can be completely vulnerable with and that’s JB…for many of the same reasons. I think it’s all too common for many of us to try so hard to be strong for others that we don’t feel like we can let that mask slip. I’m glad you’ve got someone you CAN be that way with. ((HUGS))

  3. I’m sending you big hugs, lots of love and pats on the back. I’m so glad that G is there for you and that there is such a strong positive in all this pain. Thanks for sharing, as always…
    xxx Indie

  4. I have admired you as you have continually projected positivity when most would have found it difficult. Vulnerability is certainly something I struggle with, it is one of those things that sits there on my to-do list xx

  5. I am sorry that you have been struggling but can also understand the progress that you feel that you have made from sharing and letting your vulnerability show. I agree it is easy to put on that armour and you have probably had to do that in a lot of ways to deal with your illness, but to have someone who can be your safe place and who you can allow to see your weakness can be a very powerful thing. Hugs, missy xx

  6. You are doing so well considering the treatment you are having. My own mother is currently undergoing long term chemo and I see how the world is trying to make a smaller place for her by raising her vulnerablity. She, like you, battles on and overcomes most obstacles put in her way and rises above it by sharing.

  7. I can relate to what you wrote about depression and keeping it to yourself. I found other ways to cope, though–venting in my writing (way before I started writing erotica). So glad you found someone you can share everything with. Take care! šŸ˜‰

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