Vulnerability—what it is, what it’s not, and why it works
Sharing some of the mess brings you closer.
‘Vulnerability’ is one of those mental health buzzwords, like ‘mindfulness’ or ‘self-care’’ that’s taken on a life of its own to rival the moldy shredded cheese in the back of my fridge. Ask 101 people to define the term, and you’ll somehow get 107 different definitions. For better or worse, here’s the 108th with my take:
What vulnerability is:
Vulnerability is being at risk.
Allow me to explain. Back in grad school, when I was learning how to conduct psychological research, our ethics class highlighted the rights of ‘vulnerable populations’ at increased risk of being harmed, whether accidentally or on purpose—people like pregnant women, prisoners, kids, or people with disabilities. They were vulnerable because they were susceptible to harm.
Now let’s change the focus from ivory tower research to everyday human connection. The definition of vulnerability remains the same: it’s putting ourselves at risk of being harmed: criticized, rejected, ignored, or misunderstood. We’re susceptible to harm when we reveal parts of ourselves or our lives that could be used against us…but trust that they won’t be.
In short, vulnerability is willingness to show and express thoughts and emotions we fear might result in judgment. It’s signaling through words and tone, Hey, this is stuff I usually keep secret.
What vulnerability is not:
Vulnerability is not defined by the topic. It’s whatever we find hard to admit, reluctant to bring up, or potentially embarrassing. If you talk confidently about your prison time, adultery, or drug addiction in the first conversation, you’re not actually being vulnerable. But if you cover your face as you admit you only hit your workout goal six days this week, you absolutely are. Vulnerability is subjective.
Vulnerability is not confessing to just anyone. Be selectively vulnerable. Don’t be vulnerable with people who have a known history of betraying, shaming, abusing, or otherwise mistreating you. Be strategic. Instead, be vulnerable to 1) people you want to get closer to and 2) seem at least mostly trustworthy. Again, vulnerability is sharing the stuff that could be used against you, and trusting that it won’t.
Vulnerability is not just about deep secrets. There are many levels of vulnerability. Sure, vulnerability can include disclosing never-told-anyone skeletons in your closet, but it’s also simply letting others see some of your mess: you were so late to your dentist appointment that they made you reschedule, you opened the door to call your dog and yelled your partner’s name, you think your kid’s soccer coach is hot and is that creepy?
How vulnerability works
So why is vulnerability so important? Why would we put ourselves at risk?
The answer: to be known. To share ourselves. To be closer to others.
Perfectionism tells us to be impressive rather than real, uber-competent rather than messily human. Perfectionism tells us only to show the highly polished parts of our life. But then we’re hard to relate to. As the psychologist Dr. Harriet Lerner writes in Fear and Other Uninvited Guests: Tackling the Anxiety, Fear, and Shame That Keep Us from Optimal Living and Loving, “I am neither drawn to, nor inspired by, folks who always seem to be competent and having a good day.”
By contrast, when we’re vulnerable—when we let people see some of the dust under our metaphorical rug, we signal two things:
One: I trust you. When we say, Hey, check out some of my mess, we’re signaling we trust them not to judge us or reject us. And trust is a cornerstone of close relationships.
Two: We are the same. When we share our vulnerabilities, we signal that we’re not holier than thou. It’s the opposite of dispensing advice or pronouncing judgment from on high.
So try it out: reveal a little of the mess to someone you’d like to get closer to. With some luck, you’ll get back, in spirit, Yeah, I hear you—here’s some of my mess too.
Stuff you can click:
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Be kind to others and yourself!
I find it very easy to be vulnerable behind a mask of anonymity through the internet. I can talk about anything with relative ease. Plus, there's the ability to think about what I'm "saying" with literal backspace/CTRL+Z keys. Sometimes, even when I'm not behind an anonymous pseudonym and profile picture, it's easier to talk about *almost* whatever I want in contexts like these than in person.
I've reflected upon vulnerability before, but the point about it being subjective, related to whatever we, personally, find hard to share... that was always nebulous. Thank you for clearing that up so beautifully!