According to Merriam-Webster, the adjective vulnerable is defined as: Capable of being physically or emotionally wounded or hurt (easily hurt or harmed physically, mentally, or emotionally.) Open to attack or damage (assailable, unprotected, or defenseless against physical or non-physical forces, such as criticism or malware). It can also be used as a noun, as in the vulnerability of the community, so as a collective which is at risk of being harmed.
No wonder I grew up with it unconsciously as meaning weak! I never wanted to be perceived as weak, nor as a victim. I fought against it unconsciously in everyday life so that no one thought of me as weak. The harder life got, the stronger I got…at least, that’s what I thought.
The word originates from the Latin word vulnerabilis, derived from vulnerare (“to wound”) and the root noun vulnus (“wound”). The wounded of our society. Seeing the word written out like this creates a surge within me that still wants to fight against it in myself.
Having been through multiple opportunities “to grow emotionally” by experiencing a variety of repeated trauma as a young person (and some as an adult) convinced me into thinking that ‘fight or flight’ mode was my only option – I consciously chose to fight in business, but in my personal life it was flight. Two sides of the same coin really – both leading to a dead end.
Why? Because we can’t truly be rational in either of those states, that’s why it is often referred to as our mammalian brain reacting. It is an acute stress response that is an evolutionary survival mechanism to prepare the body to confront or flee a threat.
Heck, I want it when I confront something that can truly hurt me physically – a story earlier this year about a man in Yellowstone National Park in the US who was thrown into the air by a bison – comes to mind. Yeah, he ran alright, not that it prevented him from being thrown head over heels into the air, yikes! He survived.
But what happens when this becomes our norm? Physically, we are on constant edge, and our poor bodies overproduce the hormone cortisol, which acts as an inflammatory agent in our body. Buildup of this hormone makes us sick by not letting our natural reserves of disease-fighting processes work as they should.
Okay, so back to vulnerability. If we perceive ourselves as vulnerable, then by definition, we are at risk of being hurt, manipulated, made into emotional jelly that is there to be taken advantage of. But what if there is another definition?
The moments I’ve felt closest to people, I was vulnerable and open. I shared without constraint and I walked away feeling better. I’m being vulnerable by writing about this right now. What I have learned is that vulnerability is a gateway to freedom. It allows us to be truthful, first and foremost to ourselves about who we really are. How can we be honest with others if we can’t even do that with ourselves? I see it as a form of acknowledgement. Being vulnerable enough to share with another person that I’m not always strong, who is? So why do we pretend we always are? Fear. Awful thing. It makes us scared of life when we don’t need to be. If you are a perfectionist and wrapped up in control, you get it.
But I’m getting better because I am now aware of this. Awareness is a beautiful thing. I see now that vulnerability is the unexpected surprise in my life. All my healing has come from the “V” word. Acceptance of who I am so I don’t have to react negatively to uncomfortable situations. I let myself feel it and then move on. That keeps my neanderthal brain from hijacking me.
Wisdom often comes from acknowledging from within our current or past struggles. Stuffing it doesn’t work. Running away from it doesn’t work. Trust me, I’ve tried it all. Finally, when I was worn down enough, I had to trust someone else to listen to my self-diagnosed ‘weaknesses’ and embrace the release.
That release brought peace. Peace because I finally let go of labels and of my past that I let define me in life. I am not those experiences. Those are just things that happened of which I was an actor in. But once the curtain came down, I could finally walk away and know that I was more, that I was better than the summed-up traumas of my life.
Now I’m proud to say that my super-power is my vulnerability. Without it, I would still be running from life.
◾️Want to reach out to me? You can email me at: ananda.laberge@gmail.com
