Wednesday, June 26, 2013

on vulnerability...

When I was in high school, I feared getting older.  Specifically, I feared that I might one day reach the point of being like all the rest of the "adults" I'd experienced who seemed to have shut themselves off and refused to be real with the world and people around them. Adults, in my mind, were people who refused to think about how they actually felt and, if they did think about it, they certainly didn't share it with anyone.  Adults were people who kept up a nice, tidy wall around their true selves and talked about the weather or the kids or anything, really, as long as it didn't involve giving a piece of their heart to the other person.  As long as it didn't involve being vulnerable.

As a youth, my friendships were solid and, what I would call, deep.  When we talked, when we got together for coffee, we talked more with our hearts than with our mouths.  We didn't measure our words before they came out.  We shared deeply with each other, risking everything.  And it was good. I felt known.  I felt loved and accepted.  I felt like I was living in the definition of community.

And then I entered the "real" world.  The adult world.  I would describe my entrance to this world as rather abrupt.  I went from high school, to Bible college, to marriage, to working at Bible camp for the summer, to being a youth pastor's wife at 19.  One week I was talking to people my age as peers and the next I was expected to talk to their parents as peers.  There was no transition time whatsoever.  And I had no idea how to be an adult and how to talk to adults as though they were peers.  I'd never had to do it before!

I'd say it as a clumsy transition into adulthood for me.  In high school and college, I was a relatively confident, relatively social person.  As I fumbled my way through the first few years of adulthood, I found myself testing the waters of how much vulnerability is acceptable in adulthood. And the answer I found was quite simple. Through many awkward moments when I felt I'd shared "too much," (still just a fraction of the sharing that happened with my friends in high school) I learned that it was safer to just keep my true thoughts and emotions to myself.  Adults don't know what to do with vulnerability.  It scares them.

And through the past 8 years of being an "adult," I find that I've slipped into the adult way of thinking and being. And now vulnerability scares me too. Talking about the weather is much more comfortable than asking someone how they're doing (REALLY doing!).  My 18 year old self is kicking my 27 year old self for becoming "one of them" and yet...what other path is there?

I find myself asking if it's actually possible to be truly vulnerable as an adult?  How are you supposed to be vulnerable when the people you're talking to just stare blankly at you when you open up just a little bit more than "usual" or fidget uncomfortably, obviously wishing that you'd just thrown out a "fine" so they could move on with their day. How are you supposed to be vulnerable when you're met with misunderstanding and indifference and hurtful comments thoughtlessly spoken in response to your heart?

Yes, I understand that there need to be boundaries.  Yes, I understand that you need to pick the people you are vulnerable with and other people need to just be the "weather" people.  But where is that line?  And how do you test the waters without being hurt into tucking your heart back behind the wall of safety?  Vulnerability, by definition, involves risk.  If you are vulnerable, you will be hurt sometimes, and you will be misunderstood sometimes, and you will be embarrassed sometimes.  *sigh*  I was really hoping it would be easier than that.

Brene Brown puts it well when she says, on the first page of her book Daring Greatly:
          "I hate uncertainty.  I hate not knowing. I can't stand opening myself up to getting hurt or being disappointed.  It's excruciating. Vulnerability is complicated.  And it's excruciating...(it feels) like I'm coming out of my skin.  Like I need to fix whatever's happening and make it better." And when she can't fix it, she says, "(I) clean the house.  Eat peanut butter. Blame people. Make everything around me perfect.  Control whatever I can - whatever's not nailed down."

Yup, that about sums it up for me.  How about you?

4 comments:

Carrie said...

Again, thanks so much for your vulnerability! I love hearing the things that you're processing. Brene Brown is great, isn't she? My experience of vulnerability has been quite opposite of yours. In my teens, I felt like everything was superficial and there was no one to share deeply with. As an adult I finally found people (often much younger or much older) with whom I could be genuine and honest. And many of those friendships have stood the test of time. However, my experience has also been that it's hard to find good friends with whom to go past the weather conversations, especially if you move frequently. If you're like me, it takes a few years to get things going! With all our moving, I find I have one or two of these sorts of friends in each place. It's just difficult to maintain such relationships when your friends are half-way around the world!

Alicia Buhler said...

Thank you, Niki, for your open and honest thoughts about vulnerability itself. May you find places that are safe enough to tell your truth...may you be met with respect, love and deep compassion in your moments of vulnerability.

Trev and Rebekah said...

Oh how I understand. I believe vulnerability breeds vulnerability. Yet over the years I've learned that now everyone is comfortable with going deep. Not everyone wants to stay in the deep end all the time. I think as introverts we are more comfortable there in the deep end as what matters to us is real and deep meaningful friendships with a few people. But over the years I've had to learn who my "inner circle" of friends are. Once we are in "min.stry" it's even more important to have an inner circle (and hopefully outside of the circle you work in). I've hears a pastor once say it's hard to be really close friends with people in the congregation. So it's a fine balance act. I've had to learn how to do small talk and I am glad I've learned some what because when learning a new language it's often all in small talk when I try to communicate with people I meet here. Yet I think one of the things I miss most is having my "inner circle" of friends here in the same country. Thankful for skype and email but it's also not the same.

Anonymous said...

I think frustration with lack of vulnerability in people is one reason why I only ever have a couple of close friends outside of my sisters and Mom. I agree with the comment that vulnerability breeds vulnerability. I think you have to be willing to suffer that possible awkward moment after you have shared "too much" with people who didn't really want to know. As you mentioned, if you don't take the risk, then vulnerability isn't really truly vulnerable!
I think the worthwhile thing about taking that risk, over and over again, is that real sincerity and vulnerability will attract the same in others. That is the hope, anyway. Doesn't mean it isn't easy to slip into giving the easy, shallow answers sometimes! - Katie