Last week, I rented the movie Austenland which, if you haven’t seen it, is a pretty whimsical-to-the-point-of-cheesy play off of Jane Austen’s prized works. Jane Hayes, Kerri Russel’s character, has the chance to fulfill her dream of living in an Austen-themed fantasy land. On the surface, this whole thing seems brilliant except that she spends all her time cultivating relationships in a fictional environment instead of the real world. Why? Because to dwell in reality means the pain and consequences that accompany it are also real. In her case, love was played out vicariously through imagined scenarios — like a live-action role playing game for the Jane Austen fanatics of the world.

Austenland references aside, there is something very human and natural in wanting to stay within the comfort of fiction. For those of us whose goals and dreams only reach as far as the limits of our imagination will let them, this concept is not at all foreign. We imagine how things could be, what we would say to a certain person, what we might do if a special opportunity arose. We weigh all the pros and cons, but often don’t move towards anything that might produce an actual result. As soon as the chance presents itself for us to turn those dreams into something concrete, we shut down. We spend so much time dwelling on the fantasy of an idea that we label it as nothing more than fiction, put it aside and never attempt to cross it over into warm-blooded reality. To fight for that dream requires a level of vulnerability that we’ve learned not to exhibit.

Vulnerability is one of those necessary evils. If you want something bad enough, you have to be willing to risk something — time, money, heartache, regret — you must place a wager. So we evaluate whether or not the risk is worth the reward. On the surface it would seem the worst that can happen is a lack of success in that relationship or endeavor. But it’s more than that — pain felt, damaged pride, a sense of failure — and your subconscious is all too aware of the potential fall-out before you even get started. Depending on the severity of past experiences, your subconscious would rather avoid these uncomfortable and ego-shattering outcomes because, let’s be honest, they make you feel like crap.

It’s in our human nature to navigate life with the least possible risk. As it pertains to vulnerability, we find ways to put as little of ourselves out there as necessary, or filter ourselves through what we consider “safer” mediums, to achieve what we want to achieve. We text instead of call. We cultivate our own identity on social media instead real life because it’s simply easier to manage. We keep our distance, remain at arms length, don’t commit to anything that might hurt our pride and destroy that image of ourselves we project to the world.

But you can never truly enjoy the satisfactions and joys of life if you refuse to participate fully in it– by holding back from life, its joys and satisfactions will be held back from you.

In short, when we stop being vulnerable, we sacrifice our authenticity in return for safety. We are receiving an abridged version of life that gets to the point but skips over the best parts and any opportunity for growth. Our dreams will remain dreams. Our goals will continue to remain just outside of our grasp because our fear of failure will keep them there. We must stop seeing vulnerability as a weakness. We have to stop seeing our failures as a sign that we’re on the wrong path. We have to be relentless. We have to be brave.

The lesson here is to never stop dreaming, but always push toward manifesting that vision into something more than fiction.