Shibari Taught Me to Be Vulnerable

It was horrible. It was worse than my worst nightmare. And it was the moment when Shibari taught me to be vulnerable. My husband and I were coming back from a night at the cinema—you know, one of those “let’s get away without the kids and remember how it used to be” kind of nights. And, all of a sudden, I hear the brakes and see sheer terror in my husband’s face. Half a second later, the windows explode all at once.

Before I can understand what’s going on, something crushes my left arm with no mercy. After a few seconds, the car stops spinning, and there’s blood everywhere. All I could think of was that I might die in the next few minutes. This would be the last time I enjoyed my husband’s company, and the kids would have to grow up without their mom. In a word, I learned I was vulnerable. And that filled me with dread. I had to come to terms with my own vulnerability. And Shibari taught me to be vulnerable.

Feeling vulnerable means being helpless. It’s a horrible way to live. And I knew I had to do something about it before it started affecting my family. After all, the accident wasn’t so serious, and I would be okay within a month. That is, I would be physically okay, but I was an emotional wreck. And, sooner or later, my kids and my husband would notice.

I began practicing Shibari because I wanted to overcome my fear of vulnerability. That’s how I deal with my problems. Rope restraint taught me to accept that I cannot control everything. More importantly, it taught me that there is power in weakness because I can choose not to panic.

This is a tough way of dealing with your own vulnerability, and I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. But if you’re like me and you like to stand face-to-face with your problems, I think you’ll get a good result. As for me, Shibari taught me to be vulnerable.

This is my Shibari story.