Where vulnerability depletion sneaks in

Hey there!

I am so grateful for the time you gave me in your inbox last week. 🙏

I was truly shocked that no one unsubscribed. Of course, you are always welcome to if this no longer serves you—no hard feelings at all.

On the surface, that welcome series may have seemed like a confident, orchestrated introduction. And it was when I wrote it. But when I went to send it?! It felt entirely different.

I had made the decision to send out the welcome series to you and share the vision I’ve been articulating behind the scenes. I was excited. But then? I sent the first email. And suddenly, I felt like I had made a huge mistake. A wave of fear and doubt crashed over me.

• What if I got this all wrong?

• What if you were annoyed with me?

• What if no one cared?

I wanted to shut my laptop, go out for a walk, and then come back and recant my promise to send the rest of the emails.

It was a feeling I’m familiar with—full of anxiety, loneliness, and questioning. A feeling that too often sucks me in and leads me to very confusing places.

I didn’t have a name for this feeling until I heard it spoken about in an episode of the Unpublished podcast, where they talked about vulnerability depletion—the exhaustion that comes from putting yourself out there again and again without enough recovery in between.

The most helpful thing for me was that they framed it as a natural part of creative work—not a sign something was wrong. That unlocked something for me.

I was able to look back and see how my ability to handle that feeling had everything to do with having the right support at the right time.

Where vulnerability depletion sneaks in

Maybe you’ve felt this too.

• On the job market: You send out applications, do interviews, network, and… silence. You start feeling invisible. Every conversation about your search carries a weight of judgment, real or imagined. You want to enjoy life, but anxiety overshadows everything.

• Building a business: You’re putting your name on something, offering it to the world, and suddenly it feels like a test. The pressure to get it right stalls you out. You feel like people are waiting to see if you fail.

• Creative work: You question if what you’re making even matters. You know you need to share your work, but the fear of being seen—and possibly misunderstood—makes you feel sick.

This is what vulnerability depletion does. It makes you want to disappear.

For me, that moment of panic after sending my welcome email wasn’t just about this one project—it was about my fear that I won’t be able to live up to the vision I have for it.

Back when I had a creative community

The first time I built a business, I was surrounded by other creatives. I lived in Tucson, met up with them regularly, and had a natural support system of people who understood what I was doing.

When I felt stuck or exposed, I had people to turn to. I didn’t have to explain myself. They just got it.

When I moved, I knew I’d have to rebuild that—but what I didn’t anticipate was how much harder it would be. My Tucson connections faded, and despite my efforts, I could not get things to click with the creative business community in Albuquerque. So, I sought out support in new ways—through online groups, masterminds, and digital communities. And for a while, this worked great, especially when the pandemic hit.

But over time, as life got busier and we became parents, I found I no longer had the capacity to invest in those spaces the way I once did.

My time is taken up with my family and the friendships we've built here. I’m with my kids most of the day, and when I do get time to work, it’s constantly interrupted. Then, usually before I can even fully settle into a creative flow, it’s time to jump into the dinner and bedtime madness.

The unexpected isolation of this season

This is where the vulnerability depletion hits hardest. Because in this stage of life, I don’t have much of a creative rejuvenation well to pull from.

It’s not that people are unwilling to support me—it’s that this season of life makes it really hard for me to foster those relationships.

I used to be able to meet up with other creatives regularly. I used to have time to engage deeply in conversations, even if they were online. Now, I move from fragmented work time to full-on parenting mode with almost no transition. And when I expect myself to show up and put creative work out into the world without any space for restoration, connection, or understanding—it starts to feel unbearable.

The power of even small moments of understanding

Recently, I made an intentional effort to connect with other creative business owners online, and the impact was immediate. I met with 7 strangers who had similar businesses over the course of a week.

• The feedback they gave? Exactly what I needed to hear.

• The understanding I felt? A breath of fresh air.

And I realized: having people who get you makes all the difference—even if you can’t engage as deeply as you once did.

It doesn’t erase the vulnerability of putting yourself out there, but it makes it bearable. It helps you keep going when you want to shrink back.

I don’t have time to meet with people like this every week (though I wish I did!). And I’m sure that you have your own limitations on your capacity.

So what do you do when vulnerability depletion hits, but you don’t have the bandwidth for the things you know would support you?

How to work through it

I think this is an area where having a foresight perspective really helps. Thinking about the future you (even if it’s just one hour, one day, or one week ahead of where you are now). What would make future you better than present you?

Vulnerability depletion isn’t a sign that something is wrong with you. It’s a natural cost of putting yourself out there—one that needs to be acknowledged, not ignored.

What makes it so hard is that it doesn’t always announce itself clearly. It doesn’t say, Hey, you’re depleted! Take a break! Instead, it creeps in like self-doubt. It messes with your perception of yourself and your work.

• You start believing that you’re not good enough

• You feel like everyone else has it figured out but you

• You wonder if it’s even worth it to keep trying

And when you’re exhausted by the emotional weight of being seen (or feeling invisible), the temptation is to retreat. To pull back. To stop putting yourself out there.

But what if the goal wasn’t to avoid vulnerability depletion—but to recover from it before it stops you?

Here’s what I’ve been learning:

• Recognize it for what it is. The fear doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. It means you’re stretching into something new. That discomfort is proof that you’re growing.

• Find your people. Whether online or in-person, having people who understand you makes all the difference. They remind you that you’re not alone, that your work matters, and that the struggle is normal. In this season of life, I am finding solidarity in other people’s newsletters, and great follows on LinkedIn who I can relate to in my own timing.

• Give yourself recovery time. Vulnerability takes energy. Treat it like a muscle—you have to let it rest if you want it to stay strong. Rest isn’t the opposite of progress. It’s what makes progress possible.

If you take one thing from this email, let it be this: vulnerability depletion doesn’t mean you should stop. It means you need to refuel.

What does refueling look like for you? What helps you steady yourself when you feel exposed and exhausted?

Poll, Prompt & Recap

Journal prompt: 

Think back to a time when putting yourself out there felt especially vulnerable. Maybe it was applying for a job, sharing a creative project, or launching something new.

• How did it feel in your body? What were the thoughts running through your mind?

• How did you respond? Did you retreat, push through, reach out, or do something else?

• If you could go back and support yourself better in that moment, what would you say or do differently?

3 Daily Habits

This week I was tired and chose extra sleep over waking up to write most days. But, on Wednesday I had a major breakthrough around what bonded my protagonist and antagonist together creating a compelling tension. I’m excited to write more of te story now that I have that element.

4 Weekly Habits

A benefit of working through the vulnerability depletion I felt from the newsletter last week is that posting on LinkedIn felt like less of a big deal. So I did it!

Thank you for reading! I appreciate you!

Warmly,
Jennifer