April 5, 2019:
In this very moment,
My mind is running rampant.
Feeling regretful for sharing
My most vulnerable parts.
Wishing you had not been real
All this time.
The dictionary on my computer defines vulnerability as 'the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.' Synonyms include: in danger, unprotected, powerless, helpless, an easy target for, defenseless, prone to, unsafe—you get the point. With an illustration like that, why would anyone willingly choose to be vulnerable? It sounds like something to be feared and avoided at all costs (or something you might later regret).
Many moons ago, I wrote the poem from above after a particularly heart-wrenching breakup. As you can see, I had an undeniable regret for being vulnerable. I wanted to blame my openness for the intensity of my heartache. I thought, "If only I had shown less of myself, perhaps this wouldn't hurt so bad." Now, I see my regret as misplaced. Losing a close relationship is sad, no doubt, but this partner never used my vulnerability against me, and even if he had, that would have been a reflection of his character, not mine. We cannot allow fear to inhibit us from being ourselves, even if we've evolved to believe it is weak or scary to do so.
When our vulnerability takes the blame, we inhibit the expression of our essence. Presenting watered-down extractions as a safeguard creates a barrier between our true nature and what we allow others to see. In How to Know a Person, David Brooks notes that as this filter becomes the default, we become "so used to disguising ourselves from others that we often end up disguising ourselves from ourselves." We lose touch, all while craving deeper connection and not knowing if those around us accept us for who we are underneath.
It's a paradox because vulnerability is critical in establishing connectedness, closeness, intimacy, love, understanding, empathy, and trust. Any meaningful bond has vulnerability built into the foundation. It is the very essence that makes us human. To deny its expression is a rejection of the self. Inadvertently, you reinforce a limiting belief that who you are, what you think, feel, want, and need are unworthy of having a voice. Better left suppressed. It's a travesty, which is why I'm taking a deep dive on the topic this month. Vulnerability desperately needs a reframe if we want to curate a life in which we feel safe to live in our fullest expression, no matter who is around.
Questions
How do you define vulnerability, and what emotions or associations does the term evoke for you?
Reflect on any experiences where you may have regretted being vulnerable. What lessons did you learn from these experiences?
Are there any beliefs or societal norms that have influenced your perception of vulnerability as a weakness? How might reframing vulnerability as a strength impact your interactions with others?
Reflect on times when you've witnessed vulnerability in others. How did it affect your perception of them, and how did it impact your relationship with them?