Vulnerability and personal growth

Vulnerability: a topic that keeps returning

Vulnerability has been a topic for me for quite some time. I still remember when I first came across Brené Brown’s TED Talk. The way she approaches vulnerability, researches it, and presents it with humor is exceptional. There is probably a reason why it remains one of the most viewed TED Talks today. See below in case you need a refresher or you haven't watched it yet.

What I have noticed recently is that vulnerability sometimes seems to have become a kind of golden grail. It appears on so many platforms, in leadership discussions, coaching conversations, podcasts, and social media posts. That made me stop and think:

what is actually my own opinion about vulnerability and its connection to personal growth?

Personal growth: looking at the parts we’d rather avoid

First of all, I absolutely believe that vulnerability requires courage.

It is confronting to realize that there are parts of ourselves that feel insecure, afraid, or uncertain. Yet here comes the paradox: perhaps they are not weaknesses at all. It takes courage to be willing to look at these parts, to investigate them, to put them under the microscope and perhaps even do something with what you discover.

So vulnerability asks for courage, but also openness and acceptance at the same time.

To give a personal example, I recently realized how much impact feedback still has on me. After a group session or training, I always look at the evaluations and participant experiences. This is mainly for learning purposes, I am keen on calibrating where necessary to make the experience even more impactful. But as I reflected on this, I recognized an old pattern from my own life.

When I competed in sports at a high level, there was always an evaluation of performance. There was always a next improvement point. There was always a judgment about how well you had done; and the truth is, there is always a way to improve, to deliver more, to be better. At the same time, I noticed that I was never very good at receiving compliments. Instead of simply saying “thank you,” I often found myself explaining why something had gone well, making it smaller, or finding reasons outside myself for the success.

Looking back, I can see a history of struggling with both criticism and praise. And I wanted to do something with that.

How can I receive feedback, learn from it when relevant, and not immediately question my own worth or confidence?

An interesting question. One that I am still learning from.

But for me, that process also requires vulnerability. It requires acknowledging that I am imperfect. That I have blind spots. That some patterns run much deeper than I initially thought.

What feedback taught me

Self-knowledge and personal development always seem to require this piece. Otherwise, how can we explore the deeper layers of ourselves?

There is also an element of trust and intuition involved. Trust that vulnerability is not equal to weakness. Trust that things will be okay. Trust that I am capable of dealing with what I discover.

On my path toward greater freedom, happiness and self-reliance, I actually want to see my blind spots. I want to understand them. And can I do that without judging myself?

The moment I notice judgment, I also have the opportunity to set a new intention.

The moment I become aware of a pattern, I gain the possibility of choosing differently.

That is where freedom begins.

The freedom of not knowing

This has helped me tremendously, both personally and professionally.

Years ago, when I worked as a French teacher, I was afraid that somebody would ask me a question I could not answer. Was it fear of failure? A belief that I had to know everything? Fear of losing authority? Probably a combination of all three.

Over the last few years, something shifted.

As my mindfulness practice deepened, I noticed that I am simply not afraid of that anymore.

It sounds strange, but deep inside there is now a sense of: I don’t know everything. Not even close.

In fact, the more I learn, the more I realize how much there is still to learn.

And because of that, if somebody asks me something I don’t know, that is okay. I don’t need to pretend. I don’t need to compensate. I don’t need to protect an image.

That realization brings so much freedom, playfulness and lightness. There is no longer that tight feeling that I might be exposed or that someone will discover I don’t have all the answers.

Of course I don’t.

Nobody does!

Can vulnerability become an excuse?

Something else I have noticed, especially in conversations with young adults, is how open they can be. Sometimes I am genuinely surprised by the amount of vulnerability they show. Their willingness to talk about anxiety, uncertainty, loneliness, pressure, or not knowing what they want in life is something I admire.

At times, however, I wonder whether vulnerability can become a place where we stay for too long. Almost as if vulnerability itself becomes a courageous excuse.

“We don’t know what we want.”

“We feel lost.”

“We are struggling.”

And of course they/we have every right to feel that way.

Perhaps this is partly a generational difference. Perhaps we are still learning how to accommodate and support this openness.

But I do think there is a difference between acknowledging our struggles and becoming identified with them.

Vulnerability was never meant to be a destination.

Its purpose is not simply to reveal our wounds.

Its purpose is to help us understand them.

And eventually, to move forward with them.

Being vulnerable is not the same as remaining powerless. It is not the same as giving up responsibility. Rather, it is the willingness to look honestly at what is happening inside us, so that we can respond more wisely.

What connects us

What I see underneath all of this is something very human.

Whether we are young or old, ambitious or uncertain, we all want many of the same things. We want to feel seen. We want to feel understood. We want to feel accepted and valued.

Perhaps that is what makes us vulnerable in the first place.

And perhaps that is also what connects us and what makes vulnerability such a powerful force for connection.

In my experience, vulnerability is not the goal. It can be a doorway.

A doorway to greater self-awareness, stronger relationships, personal growth, and a deeper understanding of what it means to be human.