Pushing past pleasantries and showing up authentically
“Connection is why we’re here. It’s what gives purpose and meaning to our lives.” — Brené Brown
When I first watched Brené Brown’s TEDTalk on vulnerability, I was not prepared for what she was about to tell me. As she began speaking about the positive power of human connection, I thought, “A wholesome, feel-good motivational speaker. I could use some of this energy in my life.” I listened on, ready to absorb whatever life-improving advice and good vibes she had to offer.
What she continued to say, however, transformed my spark of inspiration into a fiery fear. “Connection comes as a result of authenticity,” she said. “You must be willing to let go of who you think you should be in order to be who you are.” In short, she told me that in order to connect with others, I needed to lean into uncertainty and be completely vulnerable.
Why was this concept so terrifying to me? Sure, being vulnerable is hard, but it certainly shouldn’t warrant feelings of panic. Yet allowing myself to be truly seen, washing away the veneer of “put-togetherness”, and expressing myself authentically, felt impossible at the time. Perhaps this is an implicit notion that I hold close. Perhaps it’s a social expectation that we simply don’t talk about, but I feel pressure to be positive all the time. Any negative or “ugly” emotions that arise must be saved for later, for when I can deal with them in the privacy of solitude.
As a result, I’ve been told, “You’re always so positive!” And I am, for the most part, a fairly positive person. I try to put an optimistic spin on things and find a silver lining in difficult situations. However, I am by no means always positive—no one is. It is not realistic to be happy all the time, and sadness, anger, and fear are natural emotions that everyone experiences. But despite knowing this, a switch seems to go off inside me when I’m in a position of vulnerability, a switch that locks up self-doubt and sadness and puts only my “acceptable” feelings on display.
Apparently, this fear of authenticity is a common one. Brown says people’s main anxiety is that they wonder, “Is there something about me that, if other people know it or see it, will make me unworthy of connection?” But just because this fear is common doesn’t mean that we are helpless against it. It’s a bit like the saying, “Feel the fear and do it anyway.” Acknowledge the uncertainty, embrace it, and risk being seen for who you really are.
Yes, vulnerability is uncomfortable and scary. It is also essential for meaningful connections.
“You can’t numb the hard feelings without numbing the other emotions,” says Brown. “You cannot selectively numb. When we numb [the bad feelings], we numb joy. We numb gratitude. We numb happiness.” I realized that by closing myself off to being vulnerable, I had been able to reduce discomfort and awkwardness, but I had also diminished friendship and connection.
This was a lot for me to take in. As a shy, socially anxious teen, the mere suggestion of being vulnerable set off alarm bells inside. How could I simply start being vulnerable when I’d spent so long avoiding it? How would I choose who to be vulnerable with? How much sharing was too much? Worst of all, what if being vulnerable pushed people away, leaving me even more isolated?
Turns out, vulnerability isn’t all that complicated. It took some adjusting to, and I’m not sure if it will ever feel fully comfortable, but the more space I’ve made for vulnerability in my life, the less terrifying it has become. I’ve learned to incorporate vulnerability in small ways: expressing self-doubt instead of forcing myself to appear confident, sharing stories of struggle with peers, and answering as honestly as possible when someone asks me, “How are you?”
As for my fears of disconnection and rejection? Well, they’ve all been disproven so far. I’ve found that opening up and being real with people actually empowers others to do the same, creating a circle of authenticity and trust rather than the dungeon of isolation I had envisioned. By allowing my friends to see the whole me, including parts I deem unworthy or shameful, I’ve established deeper friendships than I ever thought was possible.
So next time someone asks, “How are you?” I encourage you to take a moment and reflect before responding with the usual, “I’m great, how about you?” See if you can make a small space for vulnerability and talk about something other than exams or the weather. You never know what connections you might form.
Photo by Hana Nikcevic
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