Vulnerability Is the Birthplace of Creativity
This article is inspired by the book Daring Greatly, written by author and courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy researcher, Brené Brown.
“I define vulnerability as uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure.”
— Brené Brown
Have you experienced vulnerability? Do you know what the term is? I have always found the thought of revealing my vulnerability in front of others to be so bizarre. Though I am quite sentimental, I’ve had always considered vulnerability “a sign of weakness.” If I ever disclosed a vulnerable moment or slipped and made a mistake? Oh boy, would my mind play that “embarrassing” encounter in my head repeatedly, nagging me well into my sleep. It was only until reading the pages of Daring Greatly that I paused and questioned myself: “how come this thing I’ve considered a fragility in myself — is something I’d praise when seen in others?”
Many, myself included, find vulnerability scary and uncomfortable. For some, vulnerability can seem cringe-worthy or unimaginable, while others may attempt to tap into their vulnerability but failed. If you have difficulty identifying moments of vulnerability or repellent to it, consider if the below scenarios apply to you…
If any of the situations sound familiar, you likely also have trouble expressing vulnerability.
Growing up, I was proud of being a perfectionist. Compared to my siblings, I was never one to gain much attention from parents or strangers. I was reserved, shy, and timid. I was not the smartest, the most outgoing, nor the one with the brightest personality or even the best looking. I was your stereotypical middle child. Naturally, I have tried everything to get my parent’s attention, and I compensated for my “lack-of-interesting qualities” with hard work — which yielded great results, temporarily. I became the model child: received perfect grades, was selected as the class president, ranked first at school, represented the school to compete in nationwide speech contests, and even earned the title of the Model Student by teachers for being a star in multiple aspects. I took cautious steps in everything I did. I hated taking risks or falling off my well-rehearsed routine. I was scared that my parents would stop loving me dare I fall from this bandwagon of perfection. However, my perfectionism could not last long. When I made a misstep during middle school, everything tumbled. At first, I tried to hold onto the remnants of my perfectionist lifestyle, but soon enough, the void was so large that I could no longer piece them back together. So I gave up. I stopped trying hard so my errors could be attributed to a lack of effort than a reflection of my inherent value. I avoided taking responsibilities so I could find excuses for my mistakes. I fed myself with “I’m just not smart enough,” “I’m not pretty enough,” “I was never likable,” “I’ve always been an unlucky person,” “this outcome was as expected for I was destined to be mediocre,” or “my parents favored my siblings because of my inherent worth — or should I say, lack-of.”
Before the fall, I also focused on painting a perfect self-image on top of scoring perfect results. With a younger brother who is only a year apart from me, I have learned to act collected, mature, and independent from a young age. My parents would boast to friends that “Joanne is the child we’d never have to worry about,” or “she has never gone through a rebellious stage!” which positively reinforced my efforts. However, my supposed composure only left me closed off and fearful of intimacy. I didn’t know how to ask for help or confide in my friends and family, for I was afraid that it’d reveal my weaknesses. My cautious and defensive characteristics further refrained me from giving or receiving emotions fully, leaving me isolated and alone.
Thankfully, my stubbornness and rationality stopped me from drowning further. Though slipping away from perfectionism was painful, I have slowly learned to forgive myself. When first introduced to the concept of growth vs. fixed mindset during an introductory college course, I could never have imagined adopting a growth mindset. Today, however, I have become receptive to growth and opportunities, and I accept the fortunate encounters in my life. Though still learning, I have repeatedly challenged myself to embrace authenticity, which has helped me open up and experience emotions to their full extent. Here marks a cornerstone of my personal growth: I was ready to learn more about vulnerability.
Vulnerability can look different for everyone. In my case, the first time I have ever incorporated creative vulnerability was through music, in particular, through the act of singing.
Adele’s newest album 30 was yet another hit. The album, carrying lyrics that provoke a sense of rawness, is complemented by the richness and warmth in Adele’s voice. NPR critic Ann Power commented that her new album 30 engages with the world through “genuine self-examination, arrangements that reflect the present moment.” Indeed, Adele is known for the emotional vulnerability in her music. Her songs have the power to touch the listeners, comforting them in their lowest times and reaching them during moments of loneliness and isolation. Bill, a student music critic from Seattle University student Newspaper The Spectator, portrays the album as a “cathartic release.” While music reviewer Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen from The Sydney Morning Herald describes 30 as “comforting” and an “inspiring listening — to reclaim oneself in the face of change and sadness.”
While the latest album chronicles Adele’s relationship with Simon Koneckito to its separation, it is much more than that; 30 catalogs her journey “towards happiness, finding herself again, and truly living.” In particular, 30 differs from her past discography for Adele has shown no spiteful feelings towards her relationship or Koneckito, just detailed her “observations of what went wrong” and addressed “her own needs.”
“I built a house for love to grow, I was so young that it was hard to know/ I’m as lost now as I was back then, always make a mess of everything/ It’s about time that I face myself, all I do is bleed into someone else/ Painting walls with all my secret tears, filling rooms with all my hopes and fears,” Adele sings on the first verse of “To Be Loved.”
The autobiographical song, “To Be Loved,” shows the singer’s growth. Adele takes “accountability for her past actions” and remains hopeful for her future while admitting her fears. Despite the unexpected outcomes of her previous relationship, Adele has learned to see “failure as par for the course of life and love.”
“But I’m open wide/ I’ll be the one to catch myself this time,” she sings, “Trying to learn to lean in to it all/ Ain’t it funny how the mighty fall?/ Looking back I don’t regret a thing/ Yeah, I took some bad turns that I am owning/ I’ll stand still and let the storm pass by/ Keep my heart safe ’til the time feels right.”
When I first sang at the age of eleven, I had tried and failed to understand the meaning behind the music lyrics. When I performed “Slipped Away” by Avril Lavigne in memory of my grandmother whom had passed away a year later, I felt the profound pain and sadness behind a song for the first time. More importantly, I learned to personalize the song to my experience and relayed my story to my audience. Singing then inspired me to utilize my creative vulnerability in other forms of creative work, such as my artistic and design work.
Take a look at Brooklyn-based illustrator Sara Rabin. Rabin has worked with massive brands from Barneys New York to Vice to Supreme to Condé Nast. No matter her client, her work is always filled with passion and authenticity, as if peaking into her diary, PRINT writes. Rabin describes her work as “vulnerable, unyielding, figurative.” The vulnerability stems from how deeply personal her work is as Rabin showcases glimpses of her everyday life as a woman living in New York. No matter the outcome of her artwork, good or bad, she never shies away from exhibiting them. “You have to be vulnerable to share bad art,” she says.
The bravery in presenting her work for the world to evaluate is just one demonstration of Rabin’s emotional vulnerability. Rabin’s work, ranging from paintings, cartoon illustrations, and textile designs, displays the artist’s unique outlook on life and her ability to capture the beauty in life. She is not afraid to find subjects as inspirations on subways and places others have not considered. Moreover, she perfectly captures the spontaneity and identifies the outstanding traits of each subject within just minutes of the encounter.
Rabin’s paintings, which she calls “emotional portraits,” are a way for her to confront her feelings by painting them away. These portraits, recording uncomfortable emotions such as pain and sadness, are so successful because Rabin leans into her emotions and empathizes deeply with her characters. She knows the exact facial features and expressions that could arouse a shared sentiment among her viewers.
I notice that, across my work, the most rewarding and impactful pieces are always those in which I visit my emotions, embrace and present my fragility, or even evoke discomfort among my viewers. For example, while paintings, I have learned to let go of my mind and let my fingers and strokes surprise me. While building a site-specific design, I studied the painful stories of the Taiwanese people during the White Terror. I imagined myself in the positions of these people back then and relived their fear and pain during this period. Similar to Rabin, I had to empathize with my subjects despite the discomfort so that my design could vividly communicate the terrifying feelings to my audience.
These artists’ ability to share honestly and openly with us is admirable, courageous, and empowering. The rawness and tenderness of their work enable the audience to empathize and connect deeply with them.
On the contrary, when we are afraid of vulnerability, we build a wall between ourselves and our loved ones, prohibiting them from creating meaningful bonds with us. Though shielding ourselves may help one find temporary relief from negative emotions, it also refrains us from experiencing positive emotions to our fullest.
The ironic thing is that you’d feel more confident and powerful once you present yourself with vulnerability. According to Karen Anderson, a master certified life coach and author of Difficult Mothers, Adult Daughters, “when you are no longer afraid of what others will think, you’re more willing to put yourself out there in all the various ways there are to do that: in relationships, in your career, with your art and creativity, with your exuberance and heart.” In Brown’s words, you’d begin to live “whole-heartedly” or courageously, Because you have approached life honestly and presently. Once you dare to take a risk, seek growth and learn from your mistakes, face the experience fully and embrace it — “[vulnerable] moments can bring a lot of creativity and make ideas flourish,” Pentagram partner Marina Willer recounted her experience.
Whether it is from singing, sketching, painting, or dancing, I always feel energized coming out of each creative work that allows me to explore my fragility. From perceiving art as a form of escape, I eventually recognized the importance of facing my emotions and tackling my problems during my creative work. I no longer have to tiptoe around my creative ideas with a greater understanding of my values and beliefs — and I believe the authenticity in the way I present my work enables others to connect with me. Expressing vulnerability is difficult but also rewarding and greatly dares us to do something new and incredible. Therefore, next time you feel like retreating into your “protective armor,” remember that “courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.”
