Re-framing "Vulnerability"
Because Boy Did I Get Sick of It
“Vulnerability is asking for what you need in the face of rejection.”
- Juliet Allen
I jotted this thought down from an early episode of Juliet Allen’s podcast, Authentic Sex, in 2018. I find it so refreshing! It is rare to find such a brief summary of vulnerability, what it is, or how one might achieve it, especially un-laden with personal anecdotes or gratuitous metaphor.
As vulnerability becomes an increasingly valued state in the mainstream consensus, so too has its use to trigger pathos in an audience intentionally. To put them in a state of sympathy to ease the sale of an idea, brand, or item.
That drives me nuts and leaves such a residue of ew. Right?!
Especially when I’ve been involved.
It feels like the absolute opposite of honoring vulnerability. This whole “strength in vulnerability” movement has been happening for some time. I think the direction it tends to take misleads folks from the potential growth that transpires from the practice of actual vulnerability to a place instead of flexing emotional courage and emotive capacity (which are good and all, but that ain’t it, fam).
I’ve been praised for the vulnerability I offer in photo shoots for over a decade, and I think I do, in various capacities, not in the way Juliet Allen means, though. I think what she is alluding to is the core of real vulnerability; the action of it, not the state of it, not the obvious susceptibility of putting down one’s defenses.
This appearance of vulnerability is what folks are typically referencing. It seems to be a niche I am celebrated for. That makes sense; the ability to be private in public is what good acting is, in the end. My emotional availability was notable from the get-go, and sharing it always seemed important to me. Honoring my natural state led me to acting and to clown!
So here we are. A trait of my being that always glittered as odd turned out to be a talent, one whose pursuit led me to my utmost passions.
Along the way, however, I became quite jaded with the phrase “vulnerable” and the discourse around its idea. I always found it off-putting that photographers who wanted to take pictures of me “being vulnerable” typically meant to assume the role of wide-eyed prey.
Perhaps it is because our tradition of masculinity doesn’t give those in the club the social pass to express fear and sadness openly that they label it vulnerability. Perhaps this is why many seem to put this particular state on a pedestal, grappling with their own inability to celebrate the human conundrum of feeling small by living vicariously through seemingly-frail subject matter.
Or perhaps it is because witnessing someone be so openly in their smallness permits them to feel so openly big. Feeling the power of our organic, human, predatory nature is intoxicating, surely.
For whatever reason, the narrowness of how vulnerability is typically approached and depicted is apparent, and I dare say this framework Allen presents blows it wide open.
“Vulnerability is asking for what you need in the face of rejection.”
It doesn’t have anything to do with an emotional state. How limiting an idea, that is, how lost in the weeds that could get one.
Mmm. I just love sitting with this. What is coming up for you? When was the last time you made yourself vulnerable?
Outside of the world of artists, I find people who outspokenly value vulnerability typically seek the experience of it via talking about vulnerable subject matter (death, abuse, etc.) rather than actually taking on the daunting task of being vulnerable. Most probably don’t know how. This offering from Juliet Allen resolves that I think. She’s given us a clear-cut way to lower oneself into the fires of vulnerable hell.
Practicing the act of being vulnerable is critical to expanding the wholeness of our humanity. Only leaning in directions we are guaranteed success will create quite a lopsided personality, no? The balance of easy wins must be tempered! Lest a sickly ego emerge, blinded by an ostentatious aversion to rejection, missing all the beautiful doors behind scary potentials.
When I started clowning a few years ago, I was also at a height of a bout of sexual awakening. And I was absolutely mad about jazz. There’s a reason for that, why these mediums of life all struck a chord for me simultaneously.
These three things seem almost identical to me: sex, clown, and jazz. The resounding successes of all three come from the same things: listening, playing, committing to the moment, switching up the vibe/tempo/volume, trusting intuition, following impulses, asking for what you need, and being utterly honest from the inside out. Intrinsically, all of them have the challenging task of asking for others to hold space and give acceptance built-in. Taken up with authentic intention, all of these subjects are where vulnerability lives in droves.
I’ve been asking myself, when have I been truly vulnerable as of late?
Outside of the aforementioned subjects, it seems like the only place I’ve been finding that growth edge is when I disclose my vaccination status to others. The possibility of rejection is tough to overcome, and when you do, but it smacks you in the chest anyway, you feel the ripples of lightening all the way through to your ringing ears and bottomed-out gut.
So, I am looking for other places to level up my failure tolerance in the way of vulnerable action. This vaccine subject is so frustratingly present in so many parts of my life that I would like to find a new place outside of it to honor the various aspects of my human wholeness! And in this case, regarding the component of vulnerability.
