Month: November 2018

Now that I have time to be self-reflective, I wish my younger self would have known the “power of vulnerability”.

Its like the “power of cheese”. Doesn’t adding cheese to your favorite dish make it an instant comfort food, making you want more and enticing your friends to want more? Coming from an extremely lactose intolerant individual, that’s a pretty big endorsement for cheese. In reality I try to avoid dairy but I just love the mystical sound of saying “ the power of cheese…” And for some weird reason, I have to say  it with a soft low voice, with a crazed glare in my eye, stooped over like Smeagol or Yoda …“ Cheese, you will eat”.

This post is not about cheese or Yoda or mysticism. It’s really about me learning that I have the power of cheese within me. That essential ingredient for building successful relationships with myself and others has been inside of me all of these years. It’s vulnerability. It’s the key to intimacy. Wow, who knew? Right?

I think as children, we are the definition of vulnerable. We can’t defend ourselves. We don’t know what is coming so we can’t prepare for it. We just react. And fortunately or unfortunately, somewhere along the way, we develop mechanisms for survival. We quickly learn, to be vulnerable is to be weak, to be victimized, to be marginalized. I wasn’t going to play that game for long.

Vulnerability got me nowhere fast. It hurt to be criticized or to fear being  “un- loved”. So, In the wink of an eye, I quickly built my perfectionistic suit of armor. It protected me against the arrows of medical school sexual harassment. It gave me a good coating of emotional numbness that was essential to weather the horrific pain of childhood illness and death during my pediatric residency. And it allowed me to succeed and rise in my profession, for sure.

My shiny, perfectionistic outer coating caused the sting of criticism or even worse, the fear of rejection and the shame of failure, to bounce off me like water-repellent rain gear. If I did everything as I was told and did it perfectly, I would be loved. Perfectionism has been the driving force in my career and my roles as mother, wife, sister, daughter and friend.

But M.S. has taught me that it’s impossible to be perfect. I’m really flawed. I have a potentially debilitating disease that, although easy to hide from the public, it’s not easy for me to hide from myself. And that’s what I think the quest for perfectionism does to us. It allows us to hide from our true selves. It’s a beast that needs constant feeding and attention. In my eyes; perfectionism was strength and vulnerability was weakness,. I ain’t drinkin’  that Kool-aid no more.

We are all vulnerable and that’s OK. It’s better than OK. It’s really cool! Because once we become vulnerable, we become accessible, not only to others but more importantly, to ourselves. We are free to F…Up! The empress has no clothes! Yahoo!  It builds intimacy and allows others to exist in our space. In actuality, it “creates space” for those around us to shine, to help and to support.

I love this quote from Brene Brown’s new book  Dare To Lead.  “As children we found ways to protect ourselves from vulnerability, from being hurt, diminished and disappointed. We put on armor; we used our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors as weapons; and we learned how to make ourselves scarce, even to disappear. Now as adults, we realize that to live with courage, purpose and connection – to be the person who we long to be – we must again be vulnerable. We must take off the armor, put down our weapons, show up and let ourselves be seen.”

Ahhh, yes…the power of cheese.