The {Courageous} Art of Being Vulnerable

Kaitlyn, Becca & Whitney

“Intense” is the only word I can use to describe this last episode of the Bachelor. We are down to three girls which, in the world of the Bachelor, is known infamously as the time when the Fantasy Suite dates occur. For those non-versed in Bachelor language, Fantasy Suites are the dates consisting of the Bachelor and each of his remaining 3 girls getting to have an overnight date--with no cameras--to talk, get to know each other more and do…whatever they want…  And because of the appeal of no cameras with them for the first time on their journey, it’s usually unlikely that anyone declines this date—regardless of any preconceived notions that the TV viewing audiences have! 

Often times the themes surrounding this episode is of opening up, sharing where you are really at with your feelings and how you see the future with that person. It’s often filled with awkward conversations as difficult questions are asked or unexpected answers are given. Some of the contestants are highly articulate while others painfully struggle to complete sentences. I mean really, it’s almost difficult to watch! 

So let me introduce Kaitlyn, one of Prince Farming’s final three girls. She made quite the entrance at the beginning of the season, identifying herself as the girl who wasn’t afraid to say or laugh at dirty jokes, but also showed herself to be very down to earth, well spoken, intuitive and un-dramatic. I admit, it took a minute for her to grow on me, but as the season wore on it became quite apparent that her, perhaps vulgar, edge acted more as a layer of protection for her as she, admittedly, did not want her heart to be broken. There have been moments in the last few weeks where she has recognized this guard she keeps up and her desire to be softer and even credits our Bachelor with being able to tap into that side of her. And while she acknowledges her fear of loss, she desperately wants to let that guard down. 

Prior to the invitation to go to the Fantasy Suite she and Chris (the Bachelor) are discussing this very concept—letting your guard down. Kaitlyn states something so powerful: “I’ve always thought that [being vulnerable] was a negative thing, but it’s not. It’s almost like I am at my best self when I am vulnerable because I can just open up with how I am feeling and talk about it and accept it.” My little therapist self did a little cheer from my couch as her words offer so much insight into the risk of a relationship and the empowerment of vulnerability. 

Brene Brown, in her book, “Daring Greatly”, defines vulnerability as: capable of being wounded and open to attack or damage. At first glance that sounds absolutely terrifying, right? Who would willingly put themselves in a situation in which they can be hurt, wounded, taken advantage of or broken? It seems absurd that anyone would seek to be vulnerable without being able to guarantee their own safety (physically, emotionally, spiritually, socially, mentally, etc.) And when we factor into that our own life experiences, our families, our relationships, our traumas and our hardships, the thought of jumping into a situation in which vulnerability is required—where being wounded is a legitimate possibility—is usually the opposite of what we are interested in doing. 

So, we build walls. We create defense mechanisms. We numb things out. We use humor, food, sex, surface level conversations, avoidance, alcohol, TV, shopping, pills, other people, lying, sarcasm, and anger outbursts to our benefit and focus on these things rather than dare letting someone hurt us again. We become an impenetrable force so that no one can hurt us like they once did. Anytime someone tries to get close to us, we can pull from our bag of tricks to keep them from getting too close—close enough to hurt us. 

And for a while, this feels really good. It feels nice to not have to worry about being hurt, used, manipulated, deceived, played or heartbroken. It feels nice to feel like you can breathe and that you are now in control of your situation.

But then something odd happens. After we have securely built our walls, ensuring that no one can touch us, ensuring that we are safe, ensuring that we are the opposite of vulnerable, we realize that we are alone. I mean alone, alone. Isolated. We have worked so hard at not allowing ourselves to get hurt that we have simultaneously kept out any semblance of meaningful relationship. We are not known to anyone else in a deep and intimate way; we are empty. We are alone. 

So, while we are not being hurt by others, we are instead hurting ourselves. In the isolation we have created as a shield of protection we now find bitterness, resentment, self-pity, toxic shame, depression, lust, pride, anxiety and apathy. The more we sit in these things the more isolated we feel which only fuels each of these things even more. I like to call it the yuck cycle. And the thing is, it’s not coming from people hurting us repeatedly, it’s not coming from our relationships; it’s coming from us—from our desires to keep ourselves safe. From our desire to be invulnerable. 

I come from a family that discourages emotional expression. In fact, in my experience, emotional expression has come under harsh critique, judgement and punishment at times. Part of my own process of healing has been understanding what I feel and allowing myself to feel those things and trust the process. A while back my family went through the death of a loved one and the emotional pain was excruciating. Knowing that I would be entering into a situation that was emotionally unsafe, I made a conscious decision to numb out all emotion and bury it until I returned to the safety of my own home. For a week I actively shoved these emotions and experiences down until I thought I might burst. Never had I felt so alone, never had I felt so horrible about myself, never had I not cared as much—in fact because I was so determined to keep this all in, to not feel the pain for fear of being hurt even more, my body literally manifested the pain. In less than 24 hours of arriving in my hometown I gained nearly 10 pounds—it was the only place that my body could find relief in expressing that emotion!  I felt raw and numb all at the same time and had to isolate myself in my own little world in order to remain un-wounded. 

I think many of us have stories like these. I don’t think that any of us are immune from this process; I would venture to say that all of us either have been, will be or are in a place where the thought of being vulnerable is terrifying and the walls of protection seem so much more appealing. It’s our human nature to want to protect ourselves from being hurt and wounded. And yet, as I reflect on my own experiences, both in the recent and distant past, I see that my iron-clad pursuit of keeping myself safe is what ends up hurting me more. 

I think it feels natural to, as Kaitlyn said, view being vulnerable as negative—even as scary. But when we open ourselves to being vulnerable—to risking, even when there is the possibility of getting hurt—we also open ourselves up to relationship, to life, to freedom, to love, to joy and to intimacy. And isn’t this what a relationship (romantic or otherwise) is all about? Being vulnerable does not give us guarantees, it does not give us a life-long pass from hurt and pain but it can give us so much more. When we can stand in front of another free from judgement, scrutiny, conditions, harshness and negativity I think we truly do open ourself up to the possibility of being our best self.