I’m a big fan of relationships. I like the way they stretch us into uncomfortable places, only to show us that we’re ultimately better for the discomfort. In my mind, a relationship is built on several things, including trust, honesty, and respect. I think that the most important ingredient in any healthy relationship is shared vulnerability. It allows us to recognize our own needs, as well as the needs in our partner. In recognizing our own, we learn how to ask for help and trust someone else. In recognizing the other’s vulnerabilities, we learn how to sacrifice and serve the ones we love.
Vulnerability is a beautiful thing, but it seems to have gotten a bad rap. In order to understand why vulnerability is beautiful, we first need to look at what makes it so scary. After all, vulnerability carries an implication that pain is a possibility. If we let our guard down, it means that the sensitive parts of our souls can be hurt by anyone who sees them. The closer the relationship is, the easier it is to be taken advantage of. I think a lot of people don’t make it past this point in relationships because they equate weakness with vulnerability, and no one likes to feel weak or susceptible to someone else’s intentions.
It would do us well to acknowledge that part of the baggage carried around by the word “vulnerability” is the implication of weakness and/or danger. While it is true that, the more vulnerable you are with someone, the more they can hurt you, the inverse is also true – the more you open yourself to vulnerability, the more deeply you can drink from the wellspring of acceptance and love.
Perhaps the best way to delineate between vulnerability and weakness is to consider a suit of armor, a collection of plates that overlap and protect. There are weak points, to be sure. The joints especially are open to attack. However, a suit of armor that doesn’t have openings at the joints is effectually worthless as a suit of armor. This is because, without these openings, you can’t move around at all and are condemned to a stationary life, watching the world happen around you. You might as well just paint a target on your back at that point. Thus we see that, in our efforts to be as strong and safe as possible, we open ourselves up to the most harm.
In order for a relationship to grow properly, there needs to be deliberate and measured action taken to reveal and safeguard. For example, before telling your partner that you wet the bed until you were a freshman in college, you can reveal that you don’t understand the hype behind the Avengers movies. By starting small, we give ourselves room to grow and learn about ourselves and our partners. With each new shared part of ourselves, we can assess problem areas, try to work on them, and move forward together based on the results of our efforts. After all, vulnerability isn’t a pool we jump into and hope for the best. It’s a gradual bloom, a slow revealing that is earned by both people.
As we open ourselves to others, it is very important for us to look for them opening themselves to us as well. As we begin to lean on our partner and friends, they need to lean back to support us. When two people are truly open to one another, they look less like two trees standing next to each other and more like an A-frame, building materials that push against and end up supporting each other. The more you are able to lean against your partner and trust them to hold you, the more you are able to support them. In other words, shared vulnerability almost paradoxically puts you in a position to be stronger than you ever could be on your own.
True vulnerability can be a scary, fraught experience filled with missteps and bruises to the ego. However, when approached purposefully and without fear of bumps and scrapes, you will find vulnerability to be instrumental in building meaningful, lasting relationships.