The Forbidden Door: Opening Up to Vulnerability in Writing
Exploring the Hidden Spaces That Hold Your Most Compelling Stories
Let’s begin here: A door stands before you. You’ve walked past it before, maybe hundreds of times. You know it’s there, but you don’t touch it. You don’t ask what’s behind it. You tell yourself you don’t need to know.
But today, something shifts.
Your fingers brush the handle. The metal is cool, heavy. Your pulse quickens. There’s something waiting on the other side, something you’ve kept locked away. Maybe it’s a memory. Maybe it’s a truth you haven’t spoken aloud. Maybe it’s the part of your story that feels too raw, too tangled, too much.
You can turn away. You can leave it closed.
Or—you can open the door.
What We Hide, What We Reveal
There are stories we tell easily. And then there are the stories that catch in our throats, the ones that hover just beneath the surface, waiting for us to be brave enough to speak them.
The best writing—the kind that lingers, the kind that changes us—comes from what we’re afraid to say. It’s found in the truths we don’t want to touch, the emotions we’d rather avoid. But fear is a compass. It points directly to where the story lives.
Writing with vulnerability isn’t about confession. It’s about recognition. It’s about stepping into the places we’ve avoided, sitting in the discomfort, and trusting that what we find there is worth the telling.
Writing Through the Door
You don’t have to force yourself to tell everything. But you do have to be willing to look.
Here’s your invitation:
Find the Door – What’s the part of your writing you’re avoiding? A scene? A character? A truth? Where does your hesitation rise the strongest? That’s the door.
Step Closer – Write about the door itself. What does it look like? Feel like? What’s waiting behind it? Let yourself explore it before stepping through.
Open It, Slowly – You don’t have to write the hardest thing all at once. Crack the door open. Let in a sliver of light. Write the feeling before the memory. Write the edge before the center.
The most important part? Don’t turn away.
Play Invitation
Set a timer for 15 minutes. Start with this line:
"There was a door I wasn’t supposed to open."
Let yourself follow the words, no matter where they lead.
If you hesitate, write the hesitation itself.
If you stop, ask yourself why—and write that, too.
When the timer ends, read what you wrote. Somewhere in those lines, past the hesitation, is a truth you weren’t expecting to find.
The Power of Writing with Vulnerability
Vulnerability in writing isn’t about exposing yourself—it’s about telling the story in a way that feels true. And truth doesn’t always come in full paragraphs. Sometimes, it’s in the pause, the white space, the words unsaid.
Readers don’t connect with perfection. They connect with honesty. They don’t need the polished version of your story—they need the raw pulse of it, the part that makes you catch your breath as you write.
That’s where the power is. That’s where the writing comes alive.
The Reader’s Role
When you open the door in your writing, your reader steps through with you. They feel the weight of what’s been hidden. They sense the courage it took to bring it into the light.
And in that moment, something happens. They recognize themselves. They see their own locked doors, their own untold stories, and for a moment, they aren’t alone.
This is why we write. Not just to tell, but to connect. Not just to open our own doors, but to remind others that theirs can be opened too.
Your Turn
The key is in your hand.
What happens when you open the door?
What emotions rise when you step inside?
What story is waiting for you on the other side?
Turn the handle. Step through. Write.
About Me
I’m Rena—a writer, educator, and relentless explorer of stories. Originally from Southern California, I’ve spent the past 20 years making my home in Costa Rica, where I live with my husband, two children, and a pair of Rhodesian Ridgebacks who refuse to acknowledge their size.
My writing has appeared in places like Brevity Magazine, South Florida Poetry Journal, Five on the Fifth, New Flash Fiction Review, Headland Literary Journal, and more. Along the way, I’ve collected more rejection letters than I care to count—a badge of honor for any writer chasing the next story.
I’m also the Founder and Director of an International K–12 school in Costa Rica, a space where my love for learning and writing collide in exciting ways. At my core, I believe in the power of ideas, in listening for what’s unsaid, and in finding beauty in the unexpected. Stories connect us—and together, I believe, we’re better.
Come write, wonder, and explore with me.
I loved this exercise, Rena. One of my forever favorite words/metaphors is "threshold", which in Spanish, umbral, has origins in the hearth and light and fire.