Vulnerability: An Antidote for Empty
The lie that vulnerability makes you weak:
American culture (along with many more for that matter) does a bang up job of convincing us that strength and success are at odds with vulnerability. Look, it makes sense to a degree…vulnerability by definition does not sound very appealing. It’s defined as the act of opening oneself up to pain. And, as humans we are largely pleasure seeking and pain avoidant. However, if we’re vulnerability avoidant we miss the opportunity for connection and intimacy with others. LOVE, arguably the most pleasurable experience known, necessitates vulnerability.
Combining the common belief that “performance is everywhere” (and the almost paranoid notion that ‘everyone is judging me as harshly as I’m judging myself’) with the idea that vulnerability is a sign of weakness, gives us the perfect recipe for a life that others may view as “successful”, but which we are likely to experience as lonely, disconnected, empty…loveless. In fact, Brene Brown argues that “love is only cultivated when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known”.
Why shy away from scary?
It’s funny that the reason we shun vulnerability is in an effort to appear strong. The truth is that to make oneself vulnerable requires a tremendous amount of courage. To open ourselves to pain means sacrificing the safety of stoicism, and that’s scary. But I thought those who were brave faced their fears…right? So, by this argument, engaging vulnerably is indicative of such strength. A five year old with whom I once worked told me this: “being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared…it just means you take a deep breath, and you do what you need to do”. If a five year old can figure this out, what’s with the rest of us? And beyond limiting our own experiences of connection, intimacy and love, what else do we give up when we dis-allow vulnerability?
I would argue that in buying into the ideas that there exists a ‘perfect’ performance and that vulnerability is indicative of weakness, we fortify experiences of isolation, disconnect and despair.
Point and Case:
Last week, my co-founder, Dan Miller, opened himself up to the public in an article published in Inc. magazine, titled, “The Hidden Cost of Success for Many Black and Hispanic Founders”. In this article, Dan spoke candidly about the stress of feeling responsible for supporting family members financially as he was coming up in the tech world. Dan discloses that during this time, there was a stretch in which he had only $5 in his bank account. Five bucks in your bank account certainly does not align with notions of success. However, in this article, Dan stood vulnerably in his story, allowing himself to be seen, and turns out, no one has reacted to this truth as an indicator of failure. Instead, his courage in sharing this vulnerable reality has been a gift that’s opening doors. At large, his action has helped to normalize the experience for others, invite them to consider options around taking care of themselves, and serves as an example of how being true to your experience fosters connection. If we’re doing these things, we’re full…that’s success.
So, remember: Life is not a performance. Vulnerability takes guts. Love and connection with oneself and others is born of taking the scary dive into those feelings and experiences you’re most afraid of, and finding light in your truth. All of this is scary. But it is certainly not weak.
About The Author
Coley Williams is the Co-Founder, and Chief Medical Officer of Level Therapy. She is also Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist and practicing Psychotherapist. You can connect with her on LinkedIn.
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