What Scares Me the Most (and Why I Do It Anyway)

Let me start with a confession: I am terrified of vulnerability. Not the run-of-the-mill fears like public speaking or spiders (though, shoutout to the eight-legged monsters for being consistently horrifying). No, I’m talking about the kind of vulnerability where you put yourself on the line—heart exposed, ego unguarded, all your emotional laundry flapping in the wind like it’s Sunday in Havana.

But here’s the thing: I do it anyway. Every day, in one way or another. Because vulnerability, as terrifying as it feels, is where love, relationships, and personal growth live. And trust me—if I can face it, so can you.

Fear #1: Looking Foolish
Let’s get real—nobody likes the idea of looking like a fool. I grew up in a household where grand gestures of affection were straightforward: abuela’s unsolicited kisses drowning me in lipstick, or my dad playing “Bésame Mucho” on his guitar, hopelessly off-key but full of heart. But when I stepped outside that bubble? Expressing emotions suddenly felt risky. What if they laugh? What if I misread the moment? What if I send a heartfelt text and get a thumbs-up emoji in response? (A modern tragedy if there ever was one.)

The reality is, rejection and awkward experiences come with the territory. I’ve embarrassed myself plenty—like the time I broke into an impassioned salsa move at a wedding and nearly dislocated my hip. Did looking foolish feel great? Nope. Did I survive? Evidently, yes.

Here’s the trick: don’t let the fear stop you. Love—that ridiculous, messy, slip-on-a-banana-peel kind of love—requires humor. Learn to laugh at yourself first. Odds are, you’re funnier than you think.

Fear #2: Having the "Hard Conversations"
There’s this moment that happens about three months into a relationship—the honeymoon phase is fading, and suddenly, you’re not just cooing over each other’s quirks, but addressing deeper stuff. (Why are you still texting your ex, Brian? Are there crumbs in your bed AND your soul?)

I used to sidestep serious conversations like I was auditioning for Dancing with the Stars. Growing up, I’d watch my parents table their disagreements until an Oscar-worthy telenovela-style blow-up ensued. I assumed that’s just what people did. But as I aged, I realized avoiding conflict only delays the inevitable. It’s like letting your phone battery drop to 3%—you’re only setting yourself up for an avoidable disaster.

So I started confronting things head-on. I tell myself: approach with honesty, empathy, and yes, a sprinkle of humor to lighten the load. Saying something like, “I love you enough to not let you leave those dirty socks on the coffee table—so let’s talk about it,” goes a lot further than passive-aggressive sighs.

And you know what? Most people respect you more when you tackle things directly. The right ones will even meet you halfway.

Fear #3: Letting People See the "Flaws"
Here’s an uncomfortable truth: I used to believe that for someone to truly love me, I had to present the most polished, grade-A version of Martin possible. Best foot forward. (And by that, I mean the foot in the new sneakers, not the scuffed loafers I actually wear.) I curated a perfect façade, smoothing over my insecurities and quirks until I was a human Instagram filter.

But the cracks in that plan started to show. My girlfriend at the time caught on to my attempts at perfectionism, pulled me aside, and said, “You don’t have to try so hard, you know.” And those words hit harder than my abuela’s chancleta ever did.

She was right. Hiding my flaws wasn’t helping—it was keeping me from feeling seen. Because love, at its core, isn’t about adoring perfection. It’s being drawn to the person who quotes lines from The Office far too often, or whose laugh-snort makes you grin. It’s the quirks, the little imperfections, that make us real.

So now? I show up as fully me. My bad dance moves, loud Cuban family, and occasional unshakable self-doubts included. And if that’s all too much? Then it’s not right anyway.

How to Embrace Vulnerability (Without Spiraling Into Panic)

I get it—vulnerability doesn’t just happen overnight. It’s like working a muscle: hard at first, but over time, it gets stronger. If you’re still clutching onto the armor, here’s a starting point:

  • Start Small. Baby steps, people. Instead of diving into a break-the-internet-level confession, try testing waters. Share something personal at a dinner party or with a trusted friend and observe how it feels.
  • Practice Saying "No". Think about this: saying "no" can be a form of vulnerability when you fear disappointing someone. Start using that two-letter word unapologetically.
  • Normalize Feeling Awkward. Spoiler alert: people around you are awkward too—they’re just better at hiding it. The sooner you embrace the cringe, the better.
  • Celebrate Every Win. Did you share something honest and survive? High-five yourself. Progress deserves celebration.

What Happens When You Face the Fear

Here’s the upside to stepping into vulnerability: once you do it, the world doesn’t end. Instead, you show people the full spectrum of you—flaws, quirks, and strength included. And the payoff? Deeper connections, better relationships, and the kind of sweet relief that comes from knowing you’re loved not because you’re perfect, but because you’re real.

Vulnerability is courage’s less glamorous cousin. It’s scary and sweaty and unpolished. But as someone who’s leaned into the fear to find love and meaning, let me tell you: it’s worth every stumbling step.

Does it guarantee you won’t face hurt or rejection? Of course not. But here’s what it does promise—growth, joy, and the sweet freedom of living authentically. Besides, isn’t that what we’re all here for, anyway?