Loving Without Armour: On Letting the Heart Show up First

Learning to love—truly love and be loved—is a vulnerable thing. We all yearn for it. And sometimes we may even feel we have it, but then comes the moment when we realize what we gave in exchange, or equally painful, what we sacrificed in its attainment. To love freely and fully means allowing full disclosure—not just in words, but in the language of the heart.

 

Opening – The Moment of Cracking Open

Several days ago, after falling gently into a quiet sleep, I startled awake, gasping for air. The first thing I did was apologize to someone I care about. But why? I had done nothing wrong. Was I apologizing for being soft, for being raw and vulnerable, for loving—for daring to love?

 

I know that needs no apology.

 

But here’s the thing: when one is years in the making, all set to defend one’s heart and keep safe, to love and be loved is like a slow thaw. When the armor begins to come off, well, that is the time when flinching can happen without warning. It is the moment when there is recoil. Not because it’s the best choice, but because it is natural to feel the resurgence of old fears.

 

I’m not safe. This is too risky . . . then the tears come.

 

Shortly after that impulse to apologize came the recognition of what I was experiencing: of having transformed from the person who distrusts, who fears, who protects, to the woman who allows and trusts, even though it sometimes hurts.

 

Some time ago I decided to let go of certain types of relationships. No more friendships that were based on commiserating, no more indulging those who separate themselves by jealousy, no more choosing vagueness or waiting for people who don’t show up.

 

I realized, for an entire year now, I’ve been allowing closeness with people I really trust. Perhaps, more importantly, I’ve allowed for that sacred inner trust, the one where I fully trust myself.

 

The gasping for air and waking up in fear? That was part of the thawing—and the release. It was my body responding to the transformation within. It was the moment I became aware of what I’ve been doing. Naturally, I questioned whether I was safe not because I felt I wasn’t, but sort of as an inventory taking. Yes, I was safe. And yes, I could trust myself.

 

Letting in love when one has been accustomed to shrinking away—that is a big thaw. And in that dissolving of old ways, there comes release. So, I woke up abruptly to releasing unsteadiness and fear.

 

The Old Story – When Armor Becomes Habit

Sometimes the desire for love can fix us to behaviors of old, make us do things that no longer serve. Things like overexplaining, making others more valuable than us, or even retreating when it gets too scary. Perhaps even choosing love that is safer—one that is flat and doesn’t light us up.

 

But those are old survival tools. After all, not a one of us can really do without love. Those tools once aided us when we needed them most, but now they come at a cost.

 

I used to think I had to perform for love, to be polished before I get there, before it comes. Sometimes, the most loving thing I could do was disappear before it rejected me first. Until I realized, there is no rejection—only the rejection of self, the unwillingness to allow love in or to extend love when it so begs to be extended.

 

The Shift – What This Week Revealed

It takes courage to show up, to be exposed in a muddy mess. It’s uncomfortable. It’s risky. There is the old fear of being “too much.” This is especially true of women, because the decades, no, the centuries, of oppressive messaging has been ingrained. It is often the reason or the longing to shrink, to do away with the real self.

 

And here is my message for you: There is a part of you that longs, that fears you cannot fulfill your wishes. Maybe in part, but not in whole. What would happen if you allowed for that fulfillment? Would that be too much, or would it simply point to the unattainable?

 

Love begins with self-love.

 

To allow the fullness of your longing is to allow the thaw to begin. Even if it’s scary. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Especially when it is scary and uncomfortable. To clear the path and say, “I want what I want and I intend to have it. I need to live my life freely, with independence, without being tethered to chains, or guilt, or old dynamics,” is to declare your full worth.

 

Even if it ruffles a few feathers.

 

It is freedom.

 

You do yourself no favors tending more to the world outside than the one within. You have one shot. It is your life—so live it, and live it well.

 

The Realization – Loving Without Armor

What is loving without armor? I’m no expert, but I’m quickly coming to know the lay of the land. It is accepting the discomfort of not knowing how you are received. It is showing up with your heart first, even though you have no guarantee. It is being messy when you feel messy, and not having to polish yourself before you extend your heart.

 

Loving without armor isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the choice to stand in love anyway. It’s the willingness to be fully seen, even when your voice shakes. Even when the past screams, “You’ve screwed this up.”

 

For me, it is feeling like I’m twelve years old and 200 years old all at once. And it’s allowing myself to love freely, because it’s the necessary thing, the only thing—and not feeling shame for loving, even when it’s not reciprocated. It’s knowing that the armor no longer serves and that being here without fully embracing love is a life not worth venturing.

 

Why settle for a sliver, when your heart was made to hold the whole?

 

The Turning Point – A Recommitment

This is what I’m committing to, or rather, recommitting to: To self. I choose to love with openness, even though it feels raw, and like venturing into a territory unknown, undiscovered. I invite you to do the same. Not because you have to, but because you choose to.

 

What am I saying yes to now? To being as I am—no restrictions, no upper limits, no conditions, no reservations. And definitely no apologies or shame.

 

What am I leaving behind?

If you loved to your greatest capacity, what would you leave behind?

 

Old hurts and old resentments? The idea that others can hold you back, or advise you from their own fear of love and abandonment, or worse, their agenda?

 

What is it for you? Is it choosing love that speaks your language and lights you up, even though it scares the living daylights out of you?

 

Choosing from the heart is sacred. It leads to making declarations with bloodshot eyes, not because you've lost your centre, but because you've found it, not from being broken, but from being whole. It does not ask you to go beyond the halfway mark; it asks to go the distance—the place where you meet your true self at the other end.

 

It is not chase; it is not drama—it is living in wholeness and truth.

 

Whatever it is, you deserve to create it the way you wish it to unfold. You deserve to have, to be, and to hold love that meets you at your deepest level.

 

As for me, I’m not here to protect others from my love anymore, to be apologetic for my true feelings, my true presence, for all that I have to offer. I’m not here to keep my hope on a leash, to wait in the abyss, the place which was once “normal.” I’m here to let the heart go first, to love without armor.

 

If there is to be love, then let it be true, let it be clean, and let it be free of constraints.