More from 'Daring greatly' by Brene Brown

To summarise Brown’s book, in order to reignite our passion and purpose we have to accept and acknowledge our feelings of vulnerability, and feel the emotions that come with it.

So we need to:-

1. Recognise when we feel vulnerable
2. Accept that that’s how we feel
3. Acknowledge those feelings with people we trust

How do we recognise and accept our feelings of vulnerability? 'Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage' (Brown, 2013). It’s that moment where you know what you need to do (truth) but it scares the pants off you and you start thinking of a million and one excuses why you shouldn’t do it (courage). You recognise it, and it terrifies you. That’s vulnerability. Me? I recognise it because it makes me want to cry and run away. I want to cry because I need to do whatever it is, but I know I won’t because I am too much of a coward.

How about you? How do you feel when you feel vulnerable? When you have to talk to a friend who has just lost a child, or when life gives you an opportunity that takes you out of your comfort zone? Or when your opinion is radically different to everyone’s around you? Or when you really can’t manage something on your own, and have to ask for help?

And how does vulnerability feel? asks Brown. 'It's taking off the mask and hoping the real me isn't too disappointing', 'Infinitely terrifying and achingly necessary', and ‘The time before hearing the gunshot and waiting to see if you're hit' (pages 37-39) are some of the responses she got. Like the floor has disappeared from under me is what I would say.

And we all feel publicly naked in that moment, apparently. So all those dreams re finding you are naked at work or school are not just anxiety dreams, they are fear-of-vulnerability dreams too. So we feel naked, exposed, terrified of being judged, of failing, and losing our connection to others.

We pretend we can avoid vulnerability but we can't. Emotionally exposing ourselves is not about over-sharing, or burdening others with our fears. Vulnerability and openness is a two way street and builds trust. We share our feelings with others who have earned the right to hear them. We don't reveal ourselves fully to people we barely know. Brown talks about developing relationships that 'can bear the weight of our story'. And goes on

'The result of this mutually respectful vulnerability is increased connection, trust and engagement.' (P46)

We build trust a bit at a time, and some of it is to do with paying attention. If someone bothers to learn your parents’ names and your birthday, keeps your secrets, tells you theirs, notices when you are sad, or ill, then that is someone who cares about you and is building a trusting relationship with you.

We can’t live our lives without others. The people who love you most love you for your weaknesses and vulnerabilities. If they can do that for you, then you can do it for them. And you can do it for yourself. It's a bitter pill to swallow, I agree. I have spent years hiding, trying not to show my real self, trying to be perfect and judging others for their imperfections. Perfect on the outside, scared on the inside, demanding that my students and family be perfect too. But being vulnerable is being courageous, and that's catching. And who's going to be there for you, when you dare and fail, as sometimes you will? Yes, it'll be those people who know and love you for who you really are, they are the ones who make it possible to suck it up and keep trying.

Shame resilience is the name of this game, it's about finding a way that allows us to stay present and courageous enough to be true to ourselves in difficult situations.

Here are a few ideas about developing shame-resilience:

·         Recognise shame and understand your triggers.

·         Practice self-awareness, in other words check the expectations that drive your shame. Are those expectations and messages realistic, attainable and reflect who you really are?

·         Reach out and communicate with others about the issues that shame you. Burst that balloon of shame and self-loathing! Talk about how you feel and what you need.

In other words, we need to take off the armour we put on as children to protect ourselves from vulnerability, put down our weapons and let ourselves be seen.

So the armour we wear looks like this:-

1. The shield- apprehension about joy. It's that 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' feeling, the 'Everything is going so well right now, it's bound to go wrong any moment' anxiety. It's a form of protection against disappointment. Some of my patients talk about how they always anticipate the worst in order not to be disappointed. How sad is that? How big is that fear of vulnerability? Hands up, I used to do that, and I knew I was protecting myself. But how often did I allow myself to experience joy? I can tell you, not often, and not for long! We are all scared of tempting fate. But the thing I have learnt is that anticipating the worst simply makes you miserable, it doesn't help you to cope. Joy makes us feel vulnerable, because it gives us more to lose. Remember the old adage 'it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'. Stay in touch with the joy, be grateful for the experience. That gratitude is the best antidote to all that anxiety.

2. The helmet- perfectionism. There's a level on which all of us feel that if we can be perfect we can minimise our potential for feeling of blame and shame and judgement. It's about getting approval from others, not about approving of our real selves. In fact, it's not about our real selves at all, it's more about the fear of failing, of making mistakes and being criticised. Perfectionism stops us achieving, and has been shown to be related to depression, anxiety and addiction. It's an unattainable goal and thus is self-destructive. Let it go, and achieve more. What you achieve that is not quite perfect is a vast improvement on the perfection that you can never quite manage to manifest!

3. The sword- numbing. You can numb yourself through never stopping to think, or by those glasses of wine after work, through leisure drugs and prescription pills, or with chocolate muffins and junk food. It's hard to find the time to recognise and engage with your feelings of shame and vulnerability, and harder still to acknowledge them and work with them. It's not about the drinking and the chocolate, it's about why the drinking and the chocolate. Think about why you do it, and if it's about avoidance or self- soothing or a temporary reprieve from discomfort, then maybe it's time to engage with those difficult feelings instead of numbing them out.

Vulnerability is good for us and helps us to make life-preserving choices. For example, people who have experienced some sort of health threat - cancer, a heart attack, a stroke - find it much easier to stick to a new health regime than people who haven’t experienced the threat.

The great news is that acknowledging our vulnerabilities empowers us. Every time we admit our fear and do what we need to do makes us a little braver each time.

Bibliography

Brown, B., 2013. Daring greatly: how the courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we live, love, parent and lead.