I stood in front of a room of strangers and shared that I twitch. Have I gone mad? Probably. My adventure down the path of allowing myself to be vulnerable continues to be a hike up a steep hill. Every step is painful, but I can feel myself reaching the peak where I can be proud of where I have landed.

The room full of strangers was my toastmaster meeting, where I took on the role of toastmaster for the first time. Before the meeting I was shaking and my heart was pounding. I used my recent experience as a method to talk about one of the major lessons I have learned through this experience – focusing on what you can control. Being caffeine free was of course one of the examples. This blog, as well as sharing my personal health story is a practice in vulnerability, and an attempt to get comfortable with it.

When I first attended toastmasters, I thought I had walked into a cult. There were rituals and routines, everyone was always clapping and shaking hands, sometimes people rapped their knuckles on the table. I thought this was definitely not for me. I must confess, I am now a fully fledged member of that cult of toasts. Toastmasters is the only place I have ever been given on the spot feedback about my presentation skills from people who are trained to look for it. It’s supportive while still offers a space to get real criticism.

Last week I listened to a TED talk on how teenagers brain’s form and what makes them willing to take risks. Part of it, is their brain chemistry as it develops. The other reason, the researcher learned, is because as a teenager takes more risks, it becomes normalized and they become acclimatized. Although this was studied in terms of negative behaviours, it is also true for positive ones. The more often you take risks, even risks like sharing something personal in public, taking on a new job, or stepping outside your comfort zone, you become acclimatized to the new behaviour. This opens you up to new opportunities, perspectives and challenges.

The darker side of practicing vulnerability with illness comes in moments of solitude. There are days where I feel positive about the outlook. I am feeling better, and a lack of a diagnosis keeps me believing that this is something minor to handle. As I begin to run with this positivity, I realize that one day, a diagnosis could come which shatters my belief that everything is ok. The positivity could be setting me up for a disastrous letdown and spiral me into a negative head space far worse than I have been before. There’s protection in being cautious, private, and negative. It is safe like staying in bed for an extra 15 minutes on a Monday morning.

Although safety is the choice I want to make, it is the weak choice. So I continue on – no longer pushing that snooze button. So let’s keep it easy like Sunday morning.