Radical Vulnerability

There’s a well understood phenomenon that happens every year on Halloween: folks who are otherwise somewhat socially conservative suddenly feel free to dress in horrifying, controversial, revealing, or bawdy costumes. The holiday itself removes culpability for expressing yourself in this way, and thus, you feel free to push the boundaries of what might normally be acceptable.

Building on that, it’s easy to see how shared rituals which are non-judgmental by nature encourage vulnerability; by removing the RISK of exposure, we’re allowed to freely express ourselves in ways that otherwise might be socially unacceptable. The very proper school teacher becomes the naughty nurse. The formal business person sports a pop up oversized cock. I personally revel in creating monsters; an expression of pain and darkness I wouldn’t normally be allowed in polite society.

We see the same phenomenon in smaller meme groups created among friends. Bawdy behavior and boundary pushing is encouraged, in a safe space that is understood to be playing. It becomes an outlet for human behavior that can be socially unacceptable without that circle of trust. By default, we know we must present in a certain way to the public at large, but that performative social morality is exhausting. Without an outlet, it wears us down over time, often resulting in acting out in far more unhealthy ways.

Humans, fundamentally, NEED spaces to be vulnerable in, to share deeply, to be known, understood, and validated. However, as a human, the only way to establish an intimate connection with another human is to roll the dice and expose our inner selves, and hope that their response is the same. Can there be any greater fear than to have our secret self rejected once exposed?

Radical vulnerability is the practice of actively challenging that fear, in spite of the pain of our past, to create deep and intimate connections with those we love.

We all start out completely innocent, as children, filled with a vast sense of wonder, and completely lacking in cynicism. We accept every message we learn as gospel truth. We innately trust everyone around us. We accept, through our conditioning, that the people around us who seem bigger and smarter must be speaking truth.

That’s why it’s so impactful when adults send the message to children that they’re not good enough. Children, by default, assume that what adults tell them is a fact. Thus, when an adult tells them that they don’t measure up, that they’re somehow innately flawed, they accept it as truth, and internalize it. It’s only through positive conditioning over time that children even gain the ability to determine that what they were told was inaccurate.

And when they figure that out, it leaves a scar.

We get more scars over time, from parents, friends, loved ones. We’re told that we’re weird or ugly or not good enough, that our soft spots and dreams should be hidden from view. We’re ridiculed for our loves or exploited by those we love. Our likes and interests and hopes and fears all become target points for another cut, another scar.

Over time, those scars add up. They begin to criss-cross, leaving lines of protection that eventually all connect into a mental defense system that protects us from hurt. But in doing so, they also diminish our capability for intimacy. We reflexively (and with external encouragement) close the doors of vulnerability, because the pain we experience in having that vulnerability taken advantage of outweighs (to our reactive mind) the chance of finding love and acceptance.

Repeat that process countless times over the life of an individual, and you end up here: a person who likely is cynical in a number of ways, and yet you’re missing something, and you know it. You hunger for more meaningful connection. Your days run together. Your evenings are lonely. You have a great friend circle, and maybe a significant other, and yet you still feel like you’re isolated, that no one knows what you’re feeling, much less, who you ARE. You feel like you’re slowly dying inside, because you need a connection you can’t even begin to describe, much less actually accomplish.

Sound familiar?

To break through this wall, we must practice radical vulnerability. We must consciously choose to engage in emotional debridement to clear away the old scars, and make peace with the past, to remember who we are, who we wanted to be.

That doesn’t mean we have to lean face first into the fear though. We just need to create more Halloweens for ourselves, safe spaces where it is socially acceptable to experiment with honesty. Maybe that’s the mask of anonymity. Maybe it’s small trusted groups of the like minded. Whatever works for you, start the process. Exfoliate your soul until you can feel again.

Happy Halloween, everyone.