Vulnerability: To Be Assailable

Merriam-Webster defines vulnerability as 1) capable of being physically or emotionally wounded or 2) open to attack or damage: assailable.

Regardless of how you view vulnerability, what this definition is essentially saying is that vulnerability is the ability to be human. We are all capable of being physically or emotionally wounded, and as such we’re all “assailable.” But many equate being openly vulnerable to being weak, lacking control or a sense of pride, or being somehow “less than.” Polite society expects us to mask anything that could be perceived as a weakness, largely so that they can remain comfortable. Why else is the only acceptable answer to the question “How are you?” that of “Fine”? Any answer outside of this brings immediate discomfort, because anything aside from a positive answer shatters the happy bubble of feigned perfection and control.

That said, I’ll go first:

I was raised in an abusive environment, surrounded by poverty and Evangelical Christianity. Since then, I’ve lost my family to homophobia, I’ve experienced homelessness and isolation, and I’ve struggled with social issues due to my anxiety and depression. I’ve struggled with my gender identity and my sense of belonging. I’ve struggled with suicide, and later with a late diagnosis of ADHD/Autism. I make mistakes. I do NOT have all of my shit together. My life has never been nor will ever be all rainbows and sunshine and perfect social media posts, because I am human, and therefore I am assailable. And because I am assailable, I am real. I am able to be truly, imperfectly, beautifully authentic.

How do you feel after reading that? What do you think of me? Do you feel pity, less respect for me, or think that I’m weak? If so, that’s ok…you’re just not “my people,” and that’s just part of life. Or perhaps something I said resonated with you. Maybe you saw a glimpse of yourself in my own life. If so, that’s the beauty of vulnerability at work. It’s a beacon to “your people,” just as much as it is a permission slip to those around you to be honest and open in and about their own lives.

Being open about my experiences has done far more good than bad. I’ve gained the truest kind of friends – the kind who just “get it” without lengthy explanations or justifications. ?The ability to be vulnerable has also helped me immensely in my own work as a coach, because when clients feel free to speak openly without fear of judgment or ridicule, things tend to flow better. But this isn’t isolated to coaching or therapy…managers who practice vulnerability open the lines of communication within their team. Teachers who practice vulnerability make it safe for students to discuss obstacles. Advocates who practice vulnerability open the doors to more connections and attract more allies to their cause.

The ability to be vulnerable is the epitome of strength. It’s not the disciplined, stoic, unmovable type of strength that is so often applauded by society…it’s the dangerous kind of strength. It’s the raw, open, flawed beauty of a human actually being human, and that’s dangerous because it invites others in, creates communities, acknowledges existing problems and addresses them, destroys barriers, flaunts expectations, ignores any “should” or “have to,” and just exists.

So, what’s the point of this article? Honestly, it’s not an article, it’s a challenge. I’m challenging you to be more open and vulnerable in your own life. I’m challenging you to redefine and reassess the role of vulnerability in your everyday interactions. Set boundaries, yes. Trust your gut…also yes. Vulnerability doesn’t need to be an uncontrolled stream of oversharing with strangers. I’m asking you to share the things you feel like sharing more often. I’m asking you to not always answer “How are you?” with “I’m fine,” unless you truly are fine. I’m asking you to go against the antiquated definition of strength, because I know you’re stronger than that. I’m asking you to be more assailable, to be authentically and genuinely human in a society that idealizes a level of perfection and stoicism that doesn’t exist. And when you present yourself as human (all flaws included), you are approachable and relatable in ways that gain you friends, open conversations, increase trust and connections, and generally just make your life and the lives around you safer and more authentic.

We are stronger than most, family, because we show up as our authentic selves every single day in a world that is largely against us. So if it takes strength to be vulnerable, I’d argue that there are few better suited to the task than those in our community.

I am a non-binary growth and mindset coach for the LGBTQ+ Community. My goal is to strengthen our community by helping individuals overcome obstacles, find more peace, and break negative patterns in their own lives.

If you feel stuck, have questions, or just feel like networking with another member of the community, reach out!