Finding Strength in Vulnerability

Vulnerability often gets mistaken for weakness. Yet, allowing yourself to be open and authentic requires courage. Why do we, as a whole, avoid vulnerability? Fear. Our society likes to paint males as the stronger sex. Yet, men rarely show their emotional side for fear of judgment. And because women tend to be more expressive, they’re touted as the weaker sex. Clearly, the logic behind this type of conditioning is deeply flawed.

For most of my life, I resisted openly revealing my emotions because the idea of baring my innermost soul to the outside world terrified me. It signified opening myself up to hurt and a loss of control. A large part of that fear stemmed from early trauma and solidified into a fortress by adulthood—so much so that I couldn’t even shed a tear at my sister’s funeral. There was no way I’d allow the world a sneak peek into my despair. I must have looked emotionless and as icy cold as marble. It took decades for me to embrace my vulnerability. Finally, doing so led to stronger relationships, self-growth, and unharnessed creative expression.

Vulnerability doesn’t belong to women. I worry that my sons will follow in the footsteps of their male predecessors and shy away from inviting deeper emotional connections. Society places invisible masks upon us, where men must display strength, and women if too emotional, risk being labeled as overly sensitive. These stereotypes rob us of genuine human connection and reinforce damaging cycles of emotional isolation.

I’ve come to understand that vulnerability isn’t about losing control—it’s about reclaiming it in a new, profound way. By allowing myself to feel deeply, I could finally engage fully with life and others without the heavy weight of pretending everything was fine. I saw my relationships blossom in ways I hadn’t imagined, and I experienced an immense sense of personal growth. The creativity that had long been stifled was finally free, giving me the space to express myself without fearing judgment.

It’s in these moments of vulnerability that we find our true strength. I encourage you to take that first step—reach out to a friend, share something you’ve been holding back, or allow yourself to feel without judgment. You may be surprised at the strength you discover. Vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s a testament to your humanity and courage. It’s the foundation for growth, connection, and creativity.

I hope my sons grow up in a world where vulnerability is no longer seen as a weakness but rather as an act of courage. By embracing their full range of emotions, they, too, will experience the freedom of living authentically.