I can’t believe I’ve made it this far without writing about vulnerability! At least not directly. Maybe it’s because Brené Brown said it all, and trying to add anything to her words is like trying to edit a few sections of Michelangelo's mural.
But after my weekend at Duke, re-submerging myself in leadership models and the finer points of executive communication, I’ve decided a few aspects of vulnerability could use our attention. Because, let’s speak honestly — corporate America is garbage at embracing vulnerability, no matter how many inspiring signs are hanging on the wall.
I’m not going to attempt to summarize all that’s been said about vulnerability, but I will direct you to Brené Brown’s book Rising Strong: How the Ability to Reset Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead. It’s equal parts insightful and self-deprecating, you’re going to love it.
But now I’m going to dive straight into where I think corporate America gets vulnerability so so so so wrong: that vulnerability is a sign of weakness, and needs to be hidden.
> Subscribe to have the Luminist delivered to your inbox every Saturday, in both written and audio format, at theluminist.substack.com.
The word ‘vulnerability’ has gotten a major rebrand in the 21st century.
But old ways of thinking die hard, especially when they’re tied to our sense of safety in the world.
According to Brené’s research, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.”
But according to Oxford Languages, vulnerability is “the state of being susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm.”
Ok, opposite ends of the spectrum. Let’s see if we can find a middle ground.
In both definitions, vulnerability involves letting our guard down. Since we aren’t often walking around with shields in the board room, modern-day examples of this include:
* revealing a struggle we are going through
* allowing others to witness our more tender emotions
* asking for support
By ye olde definition, we would assume that anyone we were vulnerable with would make a mental note of the soft spot we’d just revealed and use it later to take us down.
By Brené’s definition, the act of revealing actually makes us more resilient, because we learn that we can survive with our truth out in the open. And when we don’t have to pretend to be something we’re not, we can show up as our fullest expression, which is generally passionate, focused, and thus, powerful.
Ok, that doesn’t sound so bad… at home and with friends. But in business?
Yeah, no.
Business may not require shields, but in some ways it is still a fight. A fight for money, for status, for safety and security for the ones we love most in the world.
Vulnerability, even with its rebrand, can take a hike. We’re not risking it, no matter how many views Brené’s TED Talk has.
That used to be me, until — say it with me! — my husband unexpectedly died and everything changed.
I’ve gone through that transformation so many times, I’ll save us the gory details. (If you’re new, welcome! And you can find the full story here, here, and here.)
The pertinent cliff notes are:
* I realized certainty is complete and utter nonsense.
* My priorities shifted from building a fortress to building a support network of connection.
* I lost all capacity to care about things like appearances, societal norms, and not crying in front of total strangers.
Today, everyone on LinkedIn, at V2X (my old company), perhaps maybe even on planet earth knows that I’m a widow. This isn’t an accident or byproduct of my work. It’s 100% intentional. When meeting someone new, I’ve learned to bring it up sooner rather than later because it makes others more comfortable sharing their “vulnerabilities” with me. That mutual sharing has gifted me with people’s true stories — so I can see clearly how they struggles have transformed them.
The straight-backed, middle-aged man who spent his early 20s caring for his mother as she fought, and lost, to cancer. He is the best listener I’ve ever met. He’s not in a rush to get to the point, rather he looks at the person in front of him as though they're the most important being on the planet. And because of that, people turn into the best versions of themselves around him.
The woman with dark hair and perceptive eyes that spent her childhood in and out of the hospital. She will ALWAYS show up when anyone needs anything, because she understands what a difference it makes to know someone cares. When she’s on your team, you feel unstoppable.
The quiet guy who always ended up in the back, letting everyone else step in front of him, who had seen worse than most of us can imagine while stationed in the Middle East. He’s literally been to hell and back, but doesn’t wear it like a badge of honor. Instead, he is committed to being a grounding presence for every space he walks into. Unsurprisingly, he has become the person his co-workers turn to when they’re feeling rattled, because he so gently validates what they’re feeling and offers a balanced way forward.
From this angle, vulnerabilities only seem like our “weak spots” so far as they are the conversation topics that may cause us to get choked up — aack, the horror!
But on a deeper level, they are our superpowers. Even in business.
We all have vulnerabilities.
We’ve all been through hard times that almost crushed us… but somehow didn’t. Somehow we limped through. And that ‘somehow’ is what matters.
You are not the same person you were before; you had to evolve into a wiser, more discerning, more empowered version of you in order to survive. On this other side, why are we still glorifying infallible strength when we know it’s:
* an illusion, and
* a poor strategy for the reality of life, which requires we bend instead of break?
The world doesn’t need your performance of perfection as much as it needs the depth of your wisdom. Because anyone can be a mediocre bulldozer — pushing ahead like a personality-deficient robot — but only you can embody the hard-earned maturity that helped you survive your darkest times.
All you have to do is own it. Not even out loud. Try just starting with yourself.
Because pretending our vulnerabilities don’t exist doesn’t make them disappear. It just makes us ashamed. In trying to defend against others, we end up being the first ones to attack ourselves.
In an environment as fierce and competitive as corporate America, we have to be on our own team.
And when we can embrace all that we’ve faced and survived, we know — we’ve got this.
In vulnerability,
Sue
> Subscribe to have the Luminist delivered to your inbox every Saturday, in both written and audio format, at theluminist.substack.com.
