Vulnerability – the kryptonite to many male egos. Why is that? We’re going to skip the usual “it’s because of our social construct that men have to be strong and therefore suppress anything that could be perceived as weakness.” discussion. We have all heard that. Instead, let’s go over some research that you probably haven’t heard of before.
As I began researching men and vulnerability, This study jumped right off the screen: “Self Reported Anger: Vulnerability for Risky Behaviors in Two-Wheeler Riding Young Men”. No joke. It’s oddly specific, but I guess in academia you have to publish or you’re not relevant. To be fair, it is an article from India where two-wheel riders are a large part of the traffic flow. So I’m sure it has some relevancy or at least a correlation there.
Anyway, now that you’re either leaving the site or just wondering what the hell I’m doing, let’s move on.
Why is it that men have such a hard time being vulnerable? Simply put, it leaves us wide open to be hurt. Before we can even get to vulnerable there is significant apprehension. So there are really two obstacles to getting comfortable with vulnerability. Getting over that apprehension and then having the strength to be in the vulnerable state. Read that again. Being vulnerable takes strength. Like any strength, it takes time, practice and dedication.
I can attest to this first-hand. There was a time when I just broke down. We were moving, Covid hit, work was crazy, plus the uncertainty of keeping my job. I spiraled into a deep depression. I ended up in an outpatient hospitalization program. Five days a week for 6 hours. Most of the time I was there, I was ambivalent about if those emotions were part of a disease or just me being weak because of all the stress.
Apparently moving is one of the most stressful things your life. It didn’t feel like that. I wasn’t being aware of how my mental state was being affected. I ignored the signs. Honestly, I didn’t really know I was in the shit. And then I broke.
Going through the outpatient program, I really tried to accept I had a disease and not just a weakness. It was hard. I felt bad I had to take time off work. Which fueled the worry that fueled the anxiety that pushed me deeper into depression. It’s a vicious cycle. I still wasn’t on board that it really is a disability, and it is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. I still fought it – I’m just going through a rough patch I thought. That was my shield against the reality of the situation.
In the middle of week two, I let go. I allowed myself to dig into what I was feeling. The emotions are there regardless of what you do, so why not try to find ways to deal with it. The experience re-framed my whole outlook on how I felt. I understood that there is a chemical imbalance, and this will continue to be a cycle for me. I had to learn how to cope. I had to learn how to work with the disease and not through it.
All it took was just accepting it. Vulnerability wasn’t so awful. It actually allowed me to see my situation as if I had just had knee surgery. I had to take time to rehab to regain my strength. But, in this instance, the strength was getting over myself and finally dealing with my disease the right way.
I accepted that I need to take time for myself. I started meditating. Yep… I did that. Honestly, it’s simply taking 10 minutes to sit and breath. Nothing emasculating about that. But it has those connotations of being some sort of hippie BS and it’s somehow not manly. Get over it. Try it. All you are doing is literally sitting, breathing and not thinking. Want to make it more “manly”? Make it your meditation challenge. Try it once, go as long as you can then try and beat it next session.
Try it out. After all – if doing nothing is so easy you should be able to conquer it with not problem. Right?