Perspectives on Vulnerability

Allow this to serve as a starting point if exploring vulnerability.

Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t.

This week I spoke in groups and individual sessions about developing vulnerability in relationships - romantic, platonic, familial, formal. A task easier said than done.

I preface the discussion on vulnerability by inviting you to think about who are the important people in your life? The people who you feel the most comfortable with, maybe the people who have expressed their love and support for you, those who are dependable and you feel comfortable asking for help. In my line of work with clients, sometimes that list is very short and so the goal is to have at least one person that comes to mind.

The tricky thing about the relationship with that one person, is that there needs to be a level of vulnerability that exists in order to build that relationship in the first place.

For those of us overcoming trauma, heartbreak, betrayal, neglect, and broken trust, that is a tall ask. Vulnerability can mean asking to be seen, heard, and held in spite of the ways we can show up when we need help the most: broken, tired, drained, grief-stricken, angry, ashamed, and more.

Another consideration is that the way we ask for help is highly influenced by the way we are raised and they way our care givers were raised.

How was asking for help taught to us?

How welcome were emotions?

How early did we learn to say “I’m ok” or “I’m good”

to the people who asked us how we are doing?

As a result of the things we’ve experienced, the ways we’ve been raised, and the things we’ve survived, opening up to allow someone in can feel like letting the drawbridge down to our castle, telling the alligators and the dragons we’ve trained to stand down. The alligators, dragons, and drawbridge are the defensive mechanisms we’ve built to protect us at the core; the “I’m fine” when we’re not, the convincing ourselves that we’re happier alone, the pushing people away when they start to get too close, and so on and so on.

It is important to note that the person that comes to mind, does not have to be someone that "should" be there.

Titles, blood relation, and time known do not grant automatically grant access.

Someone can be related to you or took on the responsibility of raising you or could be a romantic partner or could have been a friend for 20 years. None of this means they are granted access to levels of you that are vulnerable. This is a common experience that often times perpetuates harm and disappointment.

Here’s the scary part

If we are honest with ourselves, can we explore if being alone in the castle is really what we want? On one hand, there’s safety guaranteed because no one can get in to have the opportunity to cause harm. Which is the point, right? On the other hand, no one can get in so there’s no one to witness and experience the castle with us. And that sounds really lonely.

This is a different experience than being introverted or enjoying

having personal space.

I emphasize the ability to practice self-honesty and noticing what are the feelings that come up when reflecting on the quality of our relationships, how we feel around the people we consider close, and how comfortable we are with being vulnerable with them.

Consider, that humans are not solitary beings. We thrive in community where we can share and create with each other. That’s why solitary confinement is considered a punishment and torture. And so self-imposing an inauthentic loneliness is like a self-imposed punishment. Even though that’s not the intention, I wonder if that’s the impact.

Vulnerability requires bravery, honesty, and a belief of deserving connection with others. It is a scary feat to be seen as less than perfect, in need of help, or broken in some way. Especially if we've had to learn strength and survival because vulnerability was not honored. Allow this to serve as the invitation to recognize the barriers between you and deeper connections and permission to take a brave step forward.