The internet is full of advice from self-made self-help experts preaching the “be who you are, do what you love” gospel. It seems like every online community hums along with the zeitgeist of vulnerability made popular by researchers like Brené Brown, marketers like Seth Godin, and hip millennials like that barista at your local coffee shop whose mustache, you suspect, is living a more meaningful life than you are.

The staff at Philz Coffee has it all figured out.

The idea at the core of the vulnerability movement is that we can’t really connect with others unless we show up and let ourselves be seen. What the world needs, they say, is people who are willing to offer our best, even though we might be wrong, even though our best might not not be good enough, even though our best might not be noticed at all. It’s all outlined in books like Daring Greatly and The Icarus Deception, in TED talks and commencement speeches, and probably on your mustachioed barista’s Tumblr. It’s compelling stuff. It will inspire you.

So maybe you’re like me, and you’ve decided to show up. You’ve figured out how you think you can make a difference, and you’re going to put yourself out there, even though there’s no guarantee. You’re going to let yourself be seen. I hope you do it. But buckle up, because whether you’re talking to one person or anonymous thousands, when you really show up, you cross a river that can’t be uncrossed.

To help you make the journey with more grace than I’m managing so far, here are six things that surprised me about being vulnerable.

1. People are going to freak out

This spring, the Salt Lake Tribune published a piece in which I urged non-orthodox Mormons, like me, to show up and let ourselves be seen. It was an optimistic piece, I thought, aimed at starting conversations that can help people feel more connected and accepted in a culture that is less homogenous than its reputation would have you believe.

It nearly got me fired. I spent several days justifying my motivation to a few passionate executives who took the piece personally and lobbied to have me removed or reassigned. And they weren’t the only ones to take it personally — conversations with friends, family, and church leaders kept recalling a scene from the Pixar movie, The Incredibles, when Bob and Helen Parr are arguing and she yells, “It’s not about you!”

When you let others see who you are, people show you who they are — sometimes by showing you how they hide. They will make it personal. Your world will change. Your relationships will change. You will feel foolish for choosing to speak up in the first place.

2. People are going to reach out

The truth behind vulnerability is that we all crave connection, but we’re waiting for someone else to make the first move. When you dare to make that move, people will volunteer stories and struggles and pieces of their life that feel sacred. For every difficult conversation my articles have sparked, I’ve connected with dozens of people I didn’t know before. These new connections will leave you feeling humbled, gratified, and overwhelmed. You will feel foolish for for waiting so long to speak up in the first place.

3. The voice in your head is going to explode

That little voice inside — the one that has been telling you it’s worth the risk to show up and make a difference — is about to turn into a fantastic pain in your ass. People are going to say mean things about you, and that voice is going to tell you they’re right, and everyone knows you’re a fraud. People are going to say nice things about you, and that voice is going to tell you you’re right, and everyone that matters thinks you’re a saint.

Go ahead and watch the whole thing. This can wait.

That voice is a jerk. Don’t bury the shame you feel from people you don’t know by swimming around in the praise you get from different people you don’t know. Feel them both. Neither one changes what you are — not a saint, not a fraud. Being vulnerable doesn’t mean it’s safe to speak up because you’ve got the right answer — it means you’re willing to speak up even though you’re still figuring it out.

4. You’re going to need to be right

It takes courage to stand up and speak from a place of vulnerability, but it isn’t a super power you unlock once and keep forever. As soon as you realize you have an audience, you’re going to feel a terrible urge to make sure you’re right. All the time. You’re going to stop talking about what you care about and start defending your ego. And you won’t even realize you’re doing it.

And heaven help you, you’re going to dig in deep. Being consistent feels just as good as being right, and once you let people see who you are, you’re going to feel like you have to stay the course. You’ll think things like, “I can’t say that, because I already said this.” “I can’t publish this, because people expect that.” If you’re not paying attention, the voice inside your head will even tell you what you can believe: “I’m not sure that makes sense to me, but I’m on record saying x, so I guess I must believe y.”

When you’re asking what your audience expects you to do next, you’re not being vulnerable. When you feel misunderstood and victimized by people you’ll never meet, you’re not showing up. If you only had the guts to show up because you can prove yourself right, you never really showed up at all.

5. You’re going to realize you’re wrong

If you’re really being vulnerable — if you aren’t just hiding behind a different message than you used to—you’re going to spend a lot of time flirting with the Publish button. It isn’t easy to take a step that you know will expose you, flaws included, to people who are going to enjoy talking about your mistakes.

So let’s get this out of the way: You’re going to be wrong. You’re going to misunderstand an issue, or misquote a source, or change your mind on a crucial detail. This isn’t merely a possibility; having the courage to show up makes it a guarantee. You will feel embarrassed and unqualified and small. And then you’ll hit the ground, and you’ll realize being wrong isn’t as bad as it seemed, and you’ll have to decide if you’re strong enough to do it again.

6. You’re going to want to hide

Sometimes, you’ll be sure you are not strong enough. You’ll run to your old hiding places, and the Welsh word hiraeth will settle on you like a heavy blanket: a deep sense of loss — a homesick yearning for a place that no longer exists. Being vulnerable changes the way you see yourself, so when you go back to your old habits and hiding places, you discover they no longer work.

Show up anyway

So should you do it? You’ll be criticized, and your ego is going to work you over, and you’ll fail publicly every now and again, and you won’t be able to go back and pretend you didn’t take a risk. It will really frustrate you.

But it will also amaze you and fill you with a sense of purpose and peace. It will teach you to look for, and to celebrate, real courage in other people. It will teach you to recognize courage in yourself, and you’ll realize that the only thing to do after you dare to show up is to dare to show up again.