Last fall, I sat down in my dean, Mr. DeAngelis’ office, and asked him for advice on which college I should apply to for Early Decision. Mr. DeAngelis started listing off, very reasonably and calmly, a few schools I might consider. This was enough to start the waterworks. In my first quarter of senior year, I felt as though the world was continually crumbling beneath my feet – it wasn’t a surprise that it took one semi-serious discussion about college to push me over the edge.

Increasingly, we’ve forgotten the value of vulnerability in our day to day lives, in the role it plays in our relationships and in the ways it impacts the way we see ourselves and others. Indifference has become a positive quality while also serving as a powerful defense – it is impossible to poke fun at someone for something they don’t care about.

However, using apathy as a cover with which to hide behind is a strategy based in the assumption that vulnerability demonstrates weakness rather than strength. And this is true – to be vulnerable is to be susceptible to emotional or physical harm, and putting ourselves in those positions, whether it be with family, friends or even strangers, is incredibly counterintuitive. Then again, being vulnerable also means making ourselves open to deeper connections, a wider support system and a more well regulated emotional state.

To me, being vulnerable means allowing my friends and family to see me in my entirety – if you can never be vulnerable with your closest relations, are you really that close with them? Can you truly say they are your closest friendships when you’re hiding parts of your inner world from them? And to strangers, how will you ever develop new friendships without first being vulnerable to new faces? On a more basic level, how can you ever expect romantic connections to happen when you’ve never mentioned anything to that person?

Following my slight meltdown over ED decisions, I was forced to confront how truly damaging it was to hold on to my negative emotions rather than talk them through. I needed to take a proactive approach to managing my stress, otherwise the admissions process was literally going to eat me alive. I began seeking out time to decompress and talk through my emotions with my friends more frequently. I was more honest with myself and others when asked how I was doing, more honest with even my journal. For the first time in years, I was being vulnerable, and I felt as though my relationships were more meaningful, held deeper connections and gave me true comfort in difficult times.

There’s a special moment that occurs when you’re being fully honest with someone, when they can look you in the eye and you can feel to your core that they see who you are, inside and out. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is, in fact, the most rewarding thing you will ever do.