Vulnerability can be scary. Personally, I have never had the dream (or night terror) of standing in my birthday suit in front of a crowd, however, that is a known feeling when thinking of sharing the inner workings of my mind or a new painting I created. Art is a form of expression, and throughout the years, journaling, poetry, and painting have been ways that I have been able to ground myself as I put pen to paper and let it flow.

When we grow up as 1st or 2nd generation, the hyphenated human - caught between the two worlds of our family’s culture and the new culture we’re living in, or perhaps an unconsciously formed third culture – vulnerability can feel especially terrifying and a threat to our sense of self. Essentially, to be vulnerable is internalized as danger, and to survive we must be strong, quiet, and hypervigilant. Sharing parts of ourselves can feel like exposing ourselves to rejection, misunderstanding, shame, and once again, feeling othered, an experience many of us have already felt. Vulnerability is seen as being weak. It asks us to trust that it's safe to be seen — and for many first-generation immigrants, that trust can feel like a luxury we were never given.

But here's the truth: being vulnerable isn’t a weakness. It’s a form of courage. It’s a way of honouring the parts of us that had to hide just to survive. Healing happens when we gently and patiently make room for our real emotions — the sadness, the hope, the anger, the love. It’s not about telling your deepest secrets to everyone. It's about creating small, secure spaces where your true self can breathe. And sometimes, speaking without words can be the first step. Channeling your emotions through your body and into some form of art is a way to regulate yourself, and can be done solo or in community.

Art doesn’t judge your accent, your story, or your fears. It doesn’t tell you that you are too much or that you need to make yourself smaller. It welcomes all of you, even the parts that don’t feel good enough. Through creating, you’re not only expressing yourself, you’re also reconnecting with parts of you that might have been buried under responsibility, fear, or survival.

You don't have to be an "artist" to benefit from this. And for all of my perfectionists out there, which so many of us hyphenated individuals are, can you set that part aside for a moment, and allow yourself to try something new? Or better yet, bring that part with you as your creativity flows, noticing it in the moments when you keep erasing and redrawing the same line because it’s not perfectly straight? Talk to that part and let it know that you see it, hear it, and that it can rest for now. What would happen if you allowed that part not to get in the way of trying anyway?

Vulnerability allows you to honour where you come from, your present journey, and where you’re heading. It highlights your growth and celebrates you. You, who holds so much responsibility. You, who cares so deeply about what others think of you. You, who does so much for others. How could you invite in more healing by giving this moment back to yourself, and allow yourself to be vulnerable in a way that you may have never tapped into, even with yourself?

In honour of being vulnerable, I rummaged through my old journals to find a piece that I’m ready to share. Well, maybe not completely, but like I tell my clients, do it scared. Take what you want, sit in reflection, and if something arises from deep within you, perhaps you’ll put pen to paper or record a voice memo and cultivate your creation.

The first poem came to me years ago when my roommate’s parents were visiting. As adult children of immigrants, though it may not always feel like it, we have a choice in what parts of our culture we hold on to and what parts we let go of, permitting ourselves to hold autonomy as we navigate life in the West. I always say that for me, home is not a place, it’s a feeling. This poem embodies the experience of living far away from family and how we may find home in the not-so-little things.

Punjabi - A Language of Love
To hear Punjabi spoken in the house
The language of my family, my ancestors, my heart
A language derived from years ago, through so many stories of triumph, heartbreak, and joy
A language that rolls the r’s and elicits deep sounds from the passion of the people who embrace their identity and persevere in the world despite the hardships
A language that reminds me of my Chachoos sitting around laughing with each other, returning to their childhood selves as they sip on their chai
A language of love.
Today, I am grateful for this, the sounds that fill my ears, my heart, and my belly
Sounds that soothe my soul
I can rest here, take pause, sip my cold coffee, and just be

If my sharing has inspired you to experiment with vulnerability and engage in the creative process as a way to encourage this exploration you’re in luck. Two of my amazing colleagues at Noor, Jean and Niloofar, are hosting Create and Center: A Virtual Art Club every Thursday in May (you can still get tickets for the next two and on the 29th, you can join for free in exchange for a testimonial) . This group is open to anyone in the U.S. It’s a space where we can come together and be vulnerable with ourselves in each other’s presence, while using the magic of art to access something that sometimes feels otherwise unattainable. No art experience is necessary because the potency of a group like this comes from our ability to just show up and be present with ourselves, exactly as we are, rather than imposing standards on ourselves of how we should be. We get enough of that in society and it can leave so many of us burnt out, overwhelmed, and disconnected. This group is a chance to reconnect to a part of us that we all have. No child is self-conscious as they scribble on paper and allow their creativity to flow. Creativity is in all of us and reconnecting to it can offer us such a powerful resource at a time like this.

Here’s to becoming more vulnerable, no matter how strange or scary it may feel - because it is also deeply healing - and here’s to doing that through allowing ourselves to reconnect to our inherent creativity.

Written by: Seher Bajwa, AMFT, APCC