Why Vulnerability is Power | Priceless Benefits of Being Vulnerable
After his brother renounced the throne, Bertie unexpectedly became king. He faced the difficult task of ruling a country on the verge of World War II. Due to his crippling stammer, which caused him much personal discomfort and embarrassment, Bertie maintained a low profile. But his sudden role as king required him to speak publicly. Because of this, he had to overcome his speech issues.
It wasn’t just a personal matter anymore but also a matter of national interest. With the help of his spouse and a speech therapist named Lionel Logue, he was able to improve his speaking ability significantly. He overcame his stammer when he addressed the country and gave a powerful speech during the war as King George VI. To improve his condition, Bertie had to be vulnerable. He had to accept his condition and put himself in positions where he could be hurt.
This bold move eventually led to personal growth, doing things he probably never thought possible. In a world that celebrates strength, the concept of vulnerability carries a stigma; people consider being vulnerable as a weakness. Therefore, we are often reluctant to be vulnerable because we fear other people’s opinions. But what if vulnerability is not a weakness but an act of courage that could lead us to reach goals, overcome fears, and make genuine connections?
This video explores the transformative power of vulnerability and its priceless benefits. The ancient Chinese war military general Sun Tzu wrote a manual named The Art of War, containing strategies for warfare. “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak” is a piece of advice Sun Tzu provides. From a strategic, military viewpoint, this advice may be sound, but it’s also a form of deception.
The latter part, to appear “strong when you are weak,” is common among people; we generally don’t want to show weakness, appear stronger and better than we are, and we’re afraid to fail, as it makes us look inadequate. But by doing so, we’re thus engaging in deception; we hide who we truly are. The idea of being vulnerable makes many people uncomfortable. Many are reluctant to show vulnerability because, by doing so, they may appear weak.
And in a way, that’s true. By being vulnerable, we tear apart the walls we built around ourselves – our personas that we worked hard to uphold – and show ourselves in ways we can be hurt. Our weaknesses become visible. Our environment formerly saw our personas, for example, the persona of the resilient and fearless provider and protector of his family or the strong, independent businesswoman who doesn’t need anyone for support, especially a man.
And likely, people liked and respected us for these traits. But the moment we drop those personas and show our true, complete selves, including our vulnerabilities, people see us in a different light; we’re not as strong as we portrayed ourselves to be. We’re, likely, not fearless. In many ways, we’re actually weak. Think about it. No matter how strong you think yourself to be regarding physique, charisma, or resources, you’re utterly at the mercy of circumstances you have no control over.
You can be a well-trained fighter able to kick almost everyone’s ass, but illness and injury always loom around the corner. How strong are you when you attribute your strength to something that can be taken away in a heartbeat? Most, if not all, people have fears and weaknesses. But we don’t allow ourselves to show them. We don’t want people to think less of us and lose respect and faith in us because they see our vulnerabilities.
They may be put off by the idea that below the armor, there’s someone, a human being, who is afraid, insecure, frail. They may not feel safe with us anymore because we aren’t the fearless action heroes capable of protecting our loved ones at all costs. Or they may lose respect for us because we aren’t as internally strong as we portrayed ourselves to be but actually susceptible to addiction or depression and unable to solve these problems without support.
Unfortunately, there is truth in the notion that certain people (not all) frown upon weakness. Therefore, there’s a social stigma around showing vulnerability, which we often interpret as weakness. This stigma around showing weakness is especially true for men, whom society generally expects to be strong, unemotional, and fearless; by showing weakness, people may see you as “not a real man” or a “pussy.”
Women may turn their backs on you, as you’ve shown them not to be a suitable provider and protector. It also results in many men holding up these facades of strength toward their girlfriends or spouses out of fear of losing them (or their respect, at least) when they open up: a fear that, unfortunately, based on much anecdotal evidence, is not entirely unfounded. Hence, many online dating coaches exclaim advice toward men such as: “Never show weakness” or “Always maintain frame.”
But the problem with such advice is that it encourages men to put on facades based on fear, in this case, fear of losing the woman they’re with as a consequence of showing who they truly are: people with frailties, emotions, vulnerabilities, like all the rest of us. They maintain a curious and continual deception to prevent people from thinking less of them. They appear “strong when weak,” as Sun Tzu put it.
They’re engaging in their own art of war, not with an enemy military on their country’s doorstep, but with themselves and their personal surroundings. However, by refusing to be vulnerable, they miss out on what could be the most significant catalyst for self-growth and genuine connection. How can we improve if we aren’t willing to acknowledge our shortcomings? How can we become experts at something if we don’t allow ourselves to be fools?
Being vulnerable comes with risks, as we previously discussed. These risks mainly revolve around how people see us and the fear of being perceived as weak and inadequate. But true, meaningful human connection requires being vulnerable. How can we connect with someone without showing significant parts of who we are? So, it’s pretty ironic when we think of it: we avoid being vulnerable because we’re concerned with what people think about us, while this avoidance of vulnerability prevents us from building actual, meaningful connections.
We could ask ourselves the following question: what’s more important? Respect, affection, and high estimation by others based on deception coming from a desire to meet standards and expectations? Or genuine connection based on who we are, our frailties and weaknesses included, which may not align with standards and expectations? Many people put so much emphasis on the former that they hijack their chances to obtain the latter.
But is it really that important to please others with our facades? Isn’t this whole deception to gain other people’s approval a waste of time? Pessimist philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer believed that spending our lives gaining other people’s approval is a fool’s errand, saying (and I quote): “We should add very much to our happiness by a timely recognition of the simple truth that every man’s chief and real existence is in his own skin, and not in other people’s opinions; and, consequently, that the actual conditions of our personal life,—health, temperament, capacity, income, wife, children, friends, home, are a hundred times more important for our happiness than what other people are pleased to think of us: otherwise we shall be miserable.
And if people insist that honor is dearer than life itself, what they really mean is that existence and well-being are as nothing compared with other people’s opinions.” End quote. Schopenhauer is saying here that so many factors in our lives are more important than what other people think of us—things like genuine connections, our income, and how we spend our time. Yet, we chase a high place in the estimation of others and even sacrifice the things that give us actual happiness for it.
In terms of vulnerability, we thus refuse to be vulnerable to gain approval, which may work but also results in us sacrificing things that may actually make us happy and fulfilled. For example, you can work hard to maintain the facade that allows you to sit at the cool kids’ table. But the price you pay is the constant fear of scrutiny and rejection if your facade cracks, the inability to express yourself in ways that don’t comply with the group’s preferences, and the need to act in ways the group dictates.
Is that really worth it? What would happen if you dropped the facade, were vulnerable, and showed the world your actual preferences, interests, and goals? You may lose your spot at the cool kids’ table and even become an outcast. But you’re now free to pursue whatever you want and attract people who like you for you, not for the facade you crafted. If that isn’t a genuine connection with yourself and the world around you, then what is? The key to obtaining it is vulnerability.
Author and professor Brené Brown, a leading expert on vulnerability, stated the following: “Our willingness to own and engage with our vulnerability determines the depth of our courage and the clarity of our purpose; the level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection.” End quote. Refusing to be vulnerable disconnects us from not only the world around us but also from ourselves.
Often, it interferes with our personal development and holds us back from improvements, as we’re too ashamed to admit our weaknesses, so we never arrive at the point of doing something about them. To become experts, we must be willing to be fools. This applies to socializing, giving presentations, driving a car, or any other skill we learn. But we must be willing to be vulnerable by accepting that we suck at something to become susceptible to learning experiences.
Thus, when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we engage in an act of courage: we let our guard down, tread unknown territory, enter a position where we can fail, disappoint people, be laughed at, rejected, and so forth. But in this vulnerability lies a path to immense self-growth. As Brené Brown stated: “We must walk into the arena, whatever it may be—a new relationship, an important meeting, our creative process, or a difficult family conversation—with courage and the willingness to engage. Rather than sitting on the sidelines and hurling judgment and advice, we must dare to show up and let ourselves be seen.
This is vulnerability. This is daring greatly.” End quote. Putting yourself in situations that make you vulnerable can lead to greater strength. It’s the exposure to these situations that increases confidence. You’ll become more comfortable in these situations. For example, I had a surge in anxiety I experienced in social situations and crowded places after the pandemic. So, I realized I had two options: to avoid these situations or expose myself to them, which put me in a vulnerable position, as I’d experience the sensations of anxiety and overstimulation and, possibly, coming off as weak because of it.
However, I could improve only by putting myself out there and fully accepting what was happening. It was another reason for me to travel, which forced me to engage socially and be in crowded places. Another example of the power of vulnerability is dealing with trauma. Again, the logic is sound: you cannot improve something you’re unwilling to acknowledge and engage with.
Becoming vulnerable with a mental health professional about, for example, your difficulties coping with traumatic experiences can lead to dissolving them in healthy ways, leading to a life less burdened by the demons of the past. So, how does being vulnerable work? How do we pull this off? I think that from what we’ve discussed so far, we can logically derive some tools that may help us be more vulnerable. I’d first consider self-acceptance: looking our weaknesses and failures in the eye with compassion instead of shame, knowing we have them because we’re human.
And if people judge us because of them, it’s their problem, not ours. If we radically accept who we are, what’s left to be ashamed of? What’s left to hide? Secondly, I’d say ‘indifference,’ in this context, toward other people’s judgments and opinions that may stop us from opening up. I made a separate video about the power of indifference.
Thirdly (and I think this is essential), I’d say the embrace of uncertainty. By entering the arena, we become particularly vulnerable to the whims of fate; we lay our lives in the hands of outside forces, things beyond our control. Making bold moves comes with dangers but also prizes. Embracing uncertainty makes it easier to fully engage with our goals, accepting the risk that things could turn completely sour.
It’s the paradoxical contract with unpredictability, the agreement stating that nothing is certain and all is subject to change. So, we fully immerse ourselves in relationships or friendships, risking betrayal and rejection. We dedicate ourselves entirely to goals, risking failure and ridicule. Some will ask: “What will happen if this goes wrong?” But then we could ask: “What will happen if this goes right?”
Yes, being vulnerable may have led to past hurts and could also lead to future ones. But does that mean we should shut the door forever, missing out on many life experiences? What do you think? Thank you for watching.