Tonight I watched two TED talks by a researcher and therapist named Brene Brown as part of my Abnormal Psychology class. Our professor presented them to us less as a supplement to our actual curriculum and more as a break from our regular talk of psychopaths and mental disorders--one of those "and now for something completely different" moments. Brene is one of those women who knows how to emphasize punchlines, pause in all the right places, and get a good laugh out of the audience. She was entertaining to watch and at first that's all I could take in about her videos, until the message suddenly hit way too close to home.
The first video was about vulnerability. Being able to be vulnerable, Brown asserted, was the key to creativity, empathy, strength, and courage. People who embrace the uncomfortable circumstances that most of us avoid or step back from become successful, healthy, and in general, understand more about living "whole-heartedly" than the rest of us. As we transitioned from the first video to the second, I found myself feeling anxious. I don't like to be vulnerable. I'm the girl who sings softly until I know that I've got the right notes, who waits to raise her hand until everyone else has said something first, who runs from confrontation rather than facing it with a plan. I'm the girl who just today said something totally stupid in class (it sounded good in my head, but then, I've never been good at saying with my mouth what my hands could write later, when I've had time to think) and then spent the rest of the hour with my head ducked down wishing I could die.
Our professor hit play on TED talk number two--this one highlighting shame. "Shame is an epidemic," Brene Brown said dramatically, emphasizing the way our culture drowns itself in numbing agents like food, alcohol, medication, and technology to avoid facing our mistakes and growing from them. We like certainty. We like cut and dry answers. No one wants to be confused, or afraid, or doubtful. Most of all, we don't want to be weak. And vulnerability is almost always seen as weakness.
As Brown spoke I thought of my life like a series of highlight shots in a sports replay. There was that time that I refused to apologize first because I didn't want to be "weak" and admit I was wrong. And the other time that I stayed silent instead of reaching out and embracing my friend who needed me most because I felt uncomfortable. And who could forget the thousands of times I've gotten in the car, cranked up the radio to full blast to drown out whatever emotions I was experiencing and drove until everything went numb and I didn't have to think about anything anymore.
Every single day of my life I seem to be waiting to become the perfect version of me, dormant somewhere inside and ready to spring, unrealistically, in my place on some future day so that I can finally start living and stop messing up my life and the lives of others. Every day I wish I were braver, smarter, better with words, more compassionate. I wish I could be a leader. I wish I had a backbone. And here is this lady telling me that the way to do all that, to grow into that person and finally stop being ashamed of who I am...is to be vulnerable?
As the videos ended and our professor confessed to us one of his most vulnerable moments in the counseling profession and the things he learned from way back when, my head was whirling... but something was also clicking into place. This seeming contradiction of bravery and vulnerability was one and the same. Think about it. Would any war have ever been won without sacrifice? Has any marriage lasted without compromise and the willingness to admit that neither partner knows what they're doing? Could any meaningful relationship be created or bloom without that first vulnerable hello?
I wish to God that I had been more willing to be vulnerable in my life. I wish I'd said "I love you" the moment that I felt it, every time I felt it, instead of waiting for someone else to say it first. I wish I'd tried more new things, danced more dances, and been willing to volunteer first. Most of all, I wish that I could stop wasting so much time doubting my own worth, believing there is something severely, fundamentally wrong with me, and obsessing over my mistakes so that I could finally start living.
Luckily, it's not too late to start, so this week--here's to vulnerability. Bend a little. Break a little. Say sorry first. Who knows what you might start by being willing to show you're not bullet-proof?
Link to Brene Brown's two TED talks: http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html
http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame.html
*image by Google*
