Vulnerability is Strength.
Vulnerability is strength. It is not weakness. It is not ignorance. It is the conscious and informed commitment to authenticity in the face of adversity. As a recovering perfectionist, I needed to be brutality honest with myself so I could enact lasting change to improve the quality of my life.
Before I could build the kind of life I wanted, I needed to address a toxic core belief: vulnerability is weakness. I used to think vulnerability was stupid because I was leaving myself open to be hurt or criticized. I believed that if I wanted to survive the opinion of others, I needed to avoid giving anyone a reason to talk about me. As you can see, this isn’t a recipe for success or a road to positive mental health.
When I took a step back from the legal field to start trauma therapy, I spent a lot of time battling how I perceived vulnerability. How much was too much to tell my job? My mentors? Supervisors? Was I exposing myself to too much risk in honoring my story? Would I be perceived as weak because I was choosing to face a lifetime of trauma and I couldn’t do it on my own time?
I practiced conversations with my therapist and loved ones so I could be prepared for the worst case scenario. But what I found surprised me: my colleagues and peers were impressed with my level of insight and they were glad I had the strength to step back when I needed it instead of carelessly risking a client’s project for the sake of “maintaining” my reputation.
A few even shared their personal stories of adversity and triumph, which strengthened the bonds I shared with them. I started to see a new perspective: vulnerability is strength. It is a tether, an invitation, to a new and more authentic way of living.
The new core belief that was being built and reinforced was the understanding that vulnerability was about making peace with myself so that when I let people in, they can show up, and we can grow. It meant to have faith in best case scenarios, not just fixate on worst case scenarios. It meant trusting myself to handle worst case scenarios when it happened.
Once I started living with authenticity and honoring myself, I couldn’t turn back. I enjoyed the real conversations I was having and I wasn’t scared or hurt when things didn’t work out for the best. I started to understand that the people I respect were drawn to this new side of me. Likewise, the people that didn’t understand didn’t need to be in my life because they weren’t offering anything enriching to my life experience and vise versa.
It was hard facing my own self limiting beliefs. After all, they were built because someone along the line taught me that I couldn’t be trusted, that others couldn’t be trusted, and that things fall apart. While that may be true, good things also happen: people change, people heal, and things work out. We learn from both sides of the spectrum, and I choose to build a life that honors my past and present so I can enjoy my future.