Vulnerability feels like a distant dream. Maybe it’s the thought of allowing someone to know us fully. Of putting ourselves out there when it’s easier to hide. I keep thinking about Adam and Eve. Their fear of exposure begins the moment they become aware of their nakedness. They sew together fig leaves. They cover themselves. They hide. They were naked physically, yes — but something shifts in that moment. An awareness of being seen without control. And isn’t there something within each of us we instinctively reach to cover the moment it’s exposed?