“Vulnerability is totally the center of [shame, scarcity, fear, anxiety, uncertainty] but it’s also the birthplace of [love, belonging, joy].” -Brene Brown
This past summer, my sister suggested I listen to a podcast episode of Under the Skin with Russell Brand. I normally don’t listen to podcasts, but I decided to check this one out because I trust her recommendations. In the episode “Power and Vulnerability,” Russell Brand interviews Brene Brown, a renowned researcher on courage, vulnerability, and shame. Discussing the current political situation with Brand, Brown proclaims that her contribution is to “help people see themselves in a way where they are courageous and capable of transforming their own pain so that they don’t take it out against each other.”
After listening to this eye-opening episode, I had to look into more of her work, so I watched her Netflix special Brene Brown: The Call to Courage. In this special, Brown shares the findings of her research on courage and vulnerability as well as how they have transformed her life. She dispels the myth that “vulnerability is weakness” by emphasizing how it takes us courage to put ourselves in a position of “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.” We are taught to value courage and to look down upon vulnerability, but according to Brown, “there is no courage without vulnerability.”
Hearing those words were so transformative and validating. I have always been sensitive ever since I was a child and I have struggled with accepting this part of myself. Memories of my younger self crying linger in my subconscious because I was told repeatedly: “Why are you crying? Stop crying.” I can look back at the past, and understand that my parents were trying their best. They only wanted for my pain to end and for me to overcome the things that hurt me. But in those moments, I wanted my emotions to be acknowledged by the people I love most. I wanted to feel them without shame. As an adult now, I recognize the cathartic emotional release of crying. But I still feel weak when my emotions overwhelm me to the brink of tears, especially when this happens in front of other people.
As a girl, I internalized the misconception that emotional women are weak. Because I was sensitive, I did not like being vulnerable but I am trying to unlearn that now. My attempts to feign invulnerability have left me with a collection of times when I failed to show up for myself. I suppressed my truths and underestimated my worth because I was afraid to authentically live for myself. And I still wrestle with those issues. But I am also learning to forgive myself because compassion is the kindest thing you can give yourself when you feel ashamed of yourself. And when I reflect on my past, I see that my lowest and most vulnerable moments taught me the most meaningful lessons that I have learned.
Our lives are enriched when we choose to live as our genuine selves, however vulnerable that may be. For me, that personally includes joining Her Campus at UCI this year. It’s my first legitimate attempt to be active in a club on campus even though this is my last year as a student here. On top of that, publishing my writing online makes me anxious because I do not know how people receive my work and the parts of myself that I can convey only through writing. But if vulnerability enables us to belong to ourselves first, like Brown claims, then writing gives me the power to belong to myself. Vulnerability is my strength and your strength as well.