Spoiler alert: It’s not much.

I once went on a 1st date with this girl, and the topic of conversation was vulnerability.

On. The. First. Date.

Crazy, right? Even when I sit back and think about it now, the first thing that comes to mind is that it would be so uncomfortable. The second thing that comes to mind is, why would it make me uncomfortable?

I’ll tell you why it sounds uncomfortable as shit to me now that I look back on it, and that’s because I knew the dictionary definition of vulnerability more or less; it seemed pretty obvious. I never practiced that word in my real life, though. Vulnerability isn’t necessarily the first lesson you learn as a Hispanic kid, and you don’t get too many role models or mentors that talk you through this. The big takeaways generally consist of things like “hechale ganas mijo” and “ponte las pilas.” Which now that I’m getting older, I’ve realized I’ve translated to my new life motto, “it is what it is.”

It’s been many years since this first date, and I’ve tried to be a bit more vulnerable. Still, strangely enough, this is the first time that I’ve ever sat here in front of my computer, wondering what the fuck I’ve done to practice vulnerability. Naturally, I think my responsibility is to come into people’s lives and instantly try to save them from becoming a lesser version of themselves. All the while, I’m slowly emptying my cup. I went years without ever saying that I was tired, and I think I said it so often that I had no idea what “tired” really meant.

Then the brick wall hit me. I ran right into that bitch, and now I have no sense of direction. Burnout is not exactly a word that’s easy to explain in my household, and resting to recover is not exactly something that’s smiled upon. Now, I’m a grown-ass man (or so I’ve been told), and I haven’t learned to stop for a second and smell the roses. I’m tired and admitting it makes my shoulders release all the tension in the world. It’s good to admit.

I never went on a second date with this girl. Quite frankly, I don’t think she’d even remember the type of impact she had on me with just one little date. It’s such a small gesture that keeps me up at night. A piece of me wonders what would’ve happened on a second date, and a more significant part of me hopes that you’re able to have the vulnerability conversation with more fellas like me. We need to hear it more often.