I grew up, not allowing myself to be vulnerable because I believed that my worth was contingent on me being powerful, strong dependable. On the one hand, I didn’t want to show to people who were hurting me how they impacted me, so I suppressed my emotions. And on the other hand, I thought that my close friends needed me to be strong. Of course, this was my own story about myself. In other words, I’d constructed a narrative that my value was derived from strength and I’d collapsed that strength with not showing emotions and vulnerability.
It took me years to realise that the opposite is true. Strength lies not in not showing emotions, but in the very opposite—in sensing, knowing and expressing our emotions. The weakness is in the fear to be vulnerable, not in vulnerability itself. Being present to ourselves and the reality of our emotions and experiences, without judgement, is real strength. It’s a form of intimacy—an intimacy with self and with the raw reality of who we are in this moment of life. And it’s what makes vulnerability a superpower.