On Vulnerability

I’ve always understood power to be the most sought out trait.  The word is synonymous with strength, respect and worth as a human being.  However, what I’ve come to realise is that power does not garner love or deep emotional connections.  In fact, power can be lonely and sad.  To be powerful involves appearing with no weaknesses, and as a result, possessing an unmonitored shame towards that which you are hiding.  I recently read an article in an online university magazine, stating:

Brene Brown describes shame as playing two lines in our heads: “Never good enough” and “Who do you think you are?”. They tell us to doubt ourselves. Shame makes us uncertain and it stops us from taking risks… The way out of shame? Vulnerability.

As I lie there questioning my closeness with those around me, I mindfully comment that I have always put up a front.  Throughout high school, the shame of wanting something desperately, whether it be a certain confidence, or a reputation, or to not be anxious to talk to people, would result in a pretence that I already possessed all these traits.  It was a thinly veiled attempt to fool my parents, my friends and myself into thinking that everything about myself was as I thought the status quo to be.  I’ve admired strong characters all my life, and my way of being one was to lie away all the things I am ashamed of.  Strong characters are always put together with no imperfections, right?

Yesterday my sister and my mother were having an argument.  She complained that she did not want to, and would not, ask a girl in her class for a minor favour.  Her fear of social awkwardness was laid clearly on the table in front of her. She had no shame and no reservations. My inherently judgmental personality would of course be harsh towards myself if I were to expose such discomfort, but when my sister nonchalantly revealed her feelings, I really couldn’t have been more indifferent.  It’s as the shame wizard from Big Mouth taunts each kid at the school sleepover. Inside their heads, the shame progresses into a powerful, self-hating force of denial.  Yet, if one kid were to be frank about their feelings, the others would probably feel a sense of relatability.  

The normalisation of these feelings within our heads would lead to an accelerated self-growth I wish I’d had.  In 2011 I watched Glee for the first time and found that the show made me uncomfortable.  The star of the show was annoying and self-obsessed.  The popular cheerleader was pregnant.  This was not your regular Hollywood teen television.  The same thing happened with The Perks of Being a Wallflower.  Why was Emma Watson so sad, and why did she have short hair?  Normal people don’t act like this.  Normal people are shiny and blonde like Kirsten Dunst from Bring it On.  Older now, I am a huge fan of both Glee and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, perhaps because their supposed quirkiness brings forward a truth about the way we feel.  They allow us to feel like any absurd thought we possess is in actuality okay.

This acceptance, both within society and the individual, should enable us to peel back this deceitful protective layer.  In recent years I have pride myself on transparency.  However, it’s like Lorde says, Let’s let things come out of the woodwork / I’ll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies / Yeah, awesome right?.  While I somehow truly believe I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve, in reality those things that bring me shame are still hiding deep within.  I guess addressing that those ‘weird’ thoughts are actually okay is easier said than done.

However, is showing your best side really all that deceitful?  Is being vulnerable all that necessary?  I’ve been grappling at the idea of a public versus private life, of mystery and maintaining a persona.  Over brunch today, my friend described how we are all too concerned about the projection of ourselves on other people.  Perhaps this brand we are demonstrating to the public is more effective and respectable with blocked out weaknesses and vulnerabilities. But where and when does this brand get replaced by the genuine truth in order to form close relationships?

I watched a video entitled Why you will marry the wrong person in which the psychologist states that when we say, ‘I love you’ what we are really saying is ‘I need you’.  We are putting ourselves in a vulnerable position.  He goes on to describe how your typical type A personality would respond to this scary feeling by almost saying and acting the opposite.  When we begin to feel vulnerable, we become avoidant, we begin to nag, and we act as if we don’t need them when we wish we could say the contrary.  This results in them questioning the relationship, leading to a cycle of low trust. If you are unable to acknowledge and understand all your own vulnerable thoughts and feelings, then how can you expect to have someone truly love you for who you are?

Additionally, honesty is attractive, and shame is not.  When asked about something I am insecure about, I find myself avoiding answering the question.  Sometimes I want the projection of myself to be something else so badly that I mimic the ‘strong’ self I wish I was.  After these incidences, I can’t help but see how two dimensional and flimsy each small dishonesty was.  Years later in hindsight, I see that if I had demonstrated the genuine self I was ashamed to be, that would have been stronger and surer.  That would have drawn the correct people.  That would have allowed people to understand my emotions, and potentially acknowledge the likeness of their own.  Ultimately, laying my vulnerable self on the table would have, and will always, lead to the most meaningful encounters.   

While we may subconsciously grow up daydreaming about the validation of receiving that trophy with the respect of all those standing below us, as we get older, we begin to realise this isn’t enough.  All the self-help books and the fairy-tale movies tell us we want love, family and ultimately to be understood.  However, bad habits of hidden insecurities are difficult to break.  In my opinion, if we acknowledge what we are ashamed of and unabashedly bear ourselves, all hidden grievances will become non-existent. Our burdens will be shared and understood by others.  Ultimately, the truth will set you free, so why not lay every single truth out there and just… be.   

Love,
M