A while ago, I watched a Ted Talk by research expert Brené Brown. Her areas of expertise are shame and vulnerability, which are topics that no one would expect. Not only is her Ted Talk remarkably insightful and inspiring, it is also bitingly witty and I burst out laughing several times. If you are someone whose interests lie in the fields of psychology and social work, I highly encourage that you watch her Ted Talks and other Youtube videos.
What struck me about her lecture is that Brown does not claim to have the secret to success and happiness. She offers no magic potion or overnight cure to mental health issues. Instead, she highlights aspects of our human psyche that are rarely addressed.
Based on Brown’s research, shame is an ugly, withering emotion. It gnaws at your heart and can darken your mind. While feeling guilt is represented by the phrase, “I’m sorry, I made a mistake,” shame is manifested by the thought of, “I’m sorry, I am a mistake.” Shame has the ability to harness self-doubt and criticism, making our own mind our worst enemy. One form of shame that is most common is that associated with gender. For women, the mantra that society dictates screams, “Do it all, do it perfectly, never let them see you sweat.” Norms are created, such as kindness, modesty and thinness, and when these norms are not met, the shame of imperfection can be crushing. In addition, men are submitted to their own slew of expectations. Men are prohibited to show weakness or to be fragile. Men are ruthlessly manipulated by the idea of hyper-masculinity and are shamed when they fall short of the standard. The onset of shame can spur a host of destructive behaviors. Eating disorders, self-harm, anxiety and poor self-esteem are among the many side effects of shame. Above all, shame creates silence. The fear of appearing weak and the terror associated with judgement encourages reticence.
One of the reasons why shame is so strong in our society is because, in general, we lack the ability to be vulnerable. We live in an age where vulnerability is associated with weakness and to admit to imperfection is forbidden. Humans effectively numb vulnerability. According to Brown, our society is more medicated, more obese, more addicted and more in debt than ever in history. Vices are used in order to neutralize shame, which also reduces the likelihood of being vulnerable. Essentially, staying quiet and small is easy. But being vulnerable and vocal is incredibly difficult as a human being. Admitting to being anything less than perfect is an active defiance of the status quo and can shake anyone to their core. Vulnerability, according to Brown, is all about emotional risk and is a measurement of courage. Furthermore, the process of opening up is contagious. It is similar to a cascade or a domino effect. If one person is honest and open about their insecurities or fears or self-doubts, others will feel empowered and follow suit.
I can fully attest to the power and fear of vulnerability and shame. I lived for five years in absolute terror that people would discover my eating disorder and they would know that I was imperfect. They would know that I was flawed and broken and struggling to find my worth. I was constantly fearful that someone would catching me throwing up and purging, and then I would be ruined. I lived in absolute fear of my own mind, my negative thoughts cackling and dancing and pulling my strings like I was a marionette. Last year, after lots of therapy session and self-reflection, I decided to speak about it. I wrote out some notes, I stood in front of my entire sorority, and told them my whole story, down to every last detail about my eating disorder. I didn’t expect to start crying and I didn’t expect to feel like I was going to buckle under nerves. Being in front of a group and revealing my darkest, most shameful secrets was one of the scariest things I have done. It would have been so much easier to stay sick, to stay in denial, to stay hidden from my own truths. But the aftermath of my talk was remarkable. I had no idea that the healing effects Brown spoke about were real, but I found so much comfort and validation and love from the group of women that I shared my story with. I was astounded at human capacity for understanding and acceptance of vulnerability.
To defy social norms can be terrifying and daunting, no matter how big or small these social conceptions are. Shame cross-cuts race, gender, class and sexuality. In our society, what is "perfect" is impossible and what is normal is shameful. To be seen as imperfect or unstable is a fear that many Americans have, but it is not as impenetrable as it seems. It is normal to be scared of vulnerability, and being vulnerable requires an unexpected strength. Honesty and openness have remarkable healing powers, and they demonstrate incredible personal strength.
Brown cites a quote from Teddy Roosevelt in her Ted Talk in which he says, “It is not the critic who counts, it is not the man who sits and points out how the doer of deeds could have done things better and how he falls and stumbles. The credit goes to the man in the arena, whose face is marred with dust and blood and sweat. When he’s in the arena, at best, he wins. And at worst he loses but when he fails, he does so daring greatly.”
Daring greatly. What a powerful statement. Brené Brown is correct in her assertion. The power of shame can be crippling but personally, I don’t want people to be perfect; people instead should dare greatly and begin to believe that they are enough.