By Dina Aldabbagh

Human beings hold a paradoxical significance when it comes to vulnerability and softness. They believe softness signifies weakness and that one’s softness is their fatal flaw. They think that their tenderness is what will bring them hurt, but the opposite couldn’t be more true. One’s tenderness is what invites in softness from the world. And one can only be soft and vulnerable if they are already strong. I will bring two concepts to you at once:

Feel tenderness and you will want to be gentle.

It is one’s harshness that shows their weakness. It takes great strength to be gentle.

The most rigid people, I’ve noticed, are the ones who feel the weakest, the most unstable. Yet the kindest, most generous people I’ve met are those who feel such security within themselves and their lives. These people don’t live by a rigid set of rules, nor do their boundaries extend to great distances. These people flow, they are easy going, things feel oh so light with them. They can be light and soft and kind because they already feel safe. They already feel secure. They know their own strength and trust that they will be okay regardless of any circumstance.

Yet those who are rigid and tense and heavy and strict expose their weakness. They expose their insecurity. They have been hurt and they are so fearful of that happening again and not being able to handle any more pain, so they are rigid, firm. We have all been “they” at some point in our lives. We have all been hurt before. Each one of us has either been temporarily or permanently jaded by a situation. This isn’t a token of judgement on the rigid of the world, rather it is a moment of awareness to help set you free. Your softness is your strength, not your weakness. 

It is very easy to act in rigidity, to allow your insecurities to drive you to harshness. It is much more laborious to self soothe and center yourself so that you can treat others with kindness and gentleness. 

You do not have to be rigid in order to be safe. Your boundaries — your walls that structure your life before you’ve even allowed the moment to unfold — they stop life from happening for you. You cut yourself off from the flow of what this universe has for you, because you don’t trust it. You thinking you have to control every aspect of your life or else you’ll be hurt — that is what’s keeping you stuck. Your rigidity is your weakness. It is not a strength. 

Those who are strong don’t need to apply force in every given moment. The greatest power genuinely does lie in the gentlest touch. Forcing circumstances and enforcing boundaries takes a lot of effort, and it’s tiring you out, love. You may think that your firm boundaries and your rigid rules are keeping you safe, but they’re actually cutting you off from something new and good from entering your life. The walls you’ve built keep you in as well. 

I know you’ve been hurt, I know. And I know because we all have. It’s unavoidable in this life. But what if I told you that that hurt wasn’t a prophecy for your future? What if that experience or that pattern was just temporary? What if that will never happen again? What if that hurt is not your prison, but rather your memory of it is? Sometimes we go through a certain pain enough times that we allow that to form our world view. We think that’s just how things are for us, and instead of ever allowing that pain to have another chance at hurting us, we completely shut ourselves off from the possibility. 

“That will never hurt me again. I’ve learned my lesson.” This is, of course, a smart way to approach living. You live and you’re meant to learn. But the real injury is not in the pain you felt, it’s how you allowed it to change you — to make you live as a smaller, more timid version of yourself. You’ve lost your boldness, your audacity, your bravery, your belief. You’ve been left with doubt, fear, and the boundaries of the box you’ve drawn in the sand for yourself. These arbitrary lines of sand keep you in place, but the world keeps moving around you — without you. They are not only the boundaries that stop the world from getting in, but also you from getting out.

May I suggest to you? Perhaps the lesson was not meant to be in “Never do X thing again,” but rather the lesson was meant to be in how you allowed it to affect you. You know how you become unshakable? Formidable? When anything can happen to you, but it will not bring you to your knees. And even if it does, it cannot keep you down. You can’t beat the person who keeps getting up and keeps fighting. So maybe that lesson of, “That will never hurt me again. I’ve learned my lesson,” was never actually about the actual thing, but rather your beliefs around it. 

For example, let’s say a young boy asks out a girl for the first time and she rejects him. Tough break, but he tries again. Well, say the next ten girls reject him. Perhaps the lesson he learns is: “Stop trying. You’re just going to get rejected, and this rejection really hurts. It makes me feel like I’m not a desirable partner for anyone.” He could then take that lesson into his life, and stop trying to reach out to girls. He could become a man, and stay timid. He could believe he’s only safe if women show their interest in him first. Then he can pursue the romance he desires. But do you see how that lesson limits him? He went from being a boy who was bold enough to express his honest desire and open his chances to get exactly what he wants out of life to a young man who became timid, and thought that he could only get whatever was given to him. 

So my challenge to you is that perhaps the lesson is not, “Stop trying,” but rather, “Stop letting rejection cut you so deeply. Stop caring so much who doesn’t accept you.” This way, the young boy can continue to be bold — and vulnerable — and expose himself and his desire so that perhaps the world can meet him halfway. 

You see, exposing yourself and your desire to the world sure seems scary, but it is such a strength. If you allow honesty in your desires — if you allow vulnerability — then you also allow exactly what you want the chance to come in. The ability to be vulnerable — i.e. brave — is what allows the world the chance to meet you exactly where you want. Stop letting the world guess what you want. Open that mouth and speak, because closed mouths don’t get fed. Speak boldly. Say exactly what you want, and leave no room for misinterpretation. While this is surely vulnerable, this boldness provides the type of clarity for the world to know exactly how to please you. 

Could others look at you and think, “What a desperate fool?” Sure. But my question is, who cares? If they think you’re stupid….so what? Nothing is going to happen. And this is where I say that you can only be vulnerable when you know you’re already safe. If you know that after whatever bold thing you do, you’ll be okay, then you’ll feel the freedom of loudly professing exactly what you want and making the kind of moves in life that allow you to have all your desires. 

Your power is in your softness. Your gentlest touch, the gentlest whisper of honesty, moves mountains. In order to have the kind of belief that says, “I’m going to be okay no matter what,” I think you do need to have some faith in the divine. You have to know that there is a power greater than you that is protecting you, and you are not the only one tasked with taking care of you. This, of course, is bold and vulnerable all on its own. But it is also exactly the kind of belief that frees you. 

Better to be seen as the fool that tried and believed and failed hundreds of times, but eventually had that vulnerable honesty work out, than the person who is so afraid of being embarrassed that they put on a cold, stoic exterior forever, and miss out on everything they should’ve had. Rather be a brave fool than a timid, respectable person. You don’t need their respect. With boldness, you have God’s. 

Every time you act with courage, he smiles down on you. Every time you say, “I will be vulnerable. I will not resent my humanness; I will celebrate it, and hope that the decision to expose myself will open me up to more. I will not jump to protect myself, because I know it is you who protects me, Lord,” God is pleased. That’s exactly what he wants from you: to know that it is he that protects you. You do not protect yourself properly by your own power, but with his hand guarding you always. 

He tells us over and over again, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Be bold. It may feel like you’re exposing yourself, because you are. But understand that exposure doesn’t mean danger, it means visibility. And the hands of others can give to who they see. 

I think of a sentiment from the Holy text often: I will go before the king. If I perish, I perish, but I will not let this moment pass.

I will not let this moment pass. We always have another chance, sure, but there is an opportunity to be found in this exact moment that you can’t get in another. This moment is unique, and if you take the risk of showing up boldly here, you also earn the chance to gain something unique from this time. It is, of course, vulnerable to show up boldly. The potential to perish is there. But is it not worse to lose the unique opportunity in front of you? Take the chance or lose the chance. 

Your vulnerability is what allows the opportunity in. Everyone is so afraid. So afraid. They don’t want to be seen as foolish. How powerful, then, if you act without the fear of you being perceived as foolish? What if you don’t care? How free does that make you? Free to act, in every moment, with what feels right for your soul, just because it feels right. Free from the weight of shame and embarrassment and wondering what they think of you. 

Vulnerability is so interesting because at first glance, it looks weak, but it actually is the strongest thing you could do. It takes strength to expose yourself. It also signifies how strong you are. The ability to go first is only because one already deeply believes in their lovability and worth to people’s lives. One’s capacity to love loudly is only because they view being loving as one of someone’s best assets. One’s ability to be honest is only because they don’t fear what anyone may think of their truth. And exposing yourself, all it does is open you up to the world. You apply to jobs — you put forth your application and risk rejection. You ask strangers to hangout so that you can be friends. Vulnerability is the vehicle to get things. 

To not care if you’re a fool in some people’s eyes is a strength. Let yourself be a fool. Better to be a faithful fool that allows the divine to carry them — and relieves themselves of the weight of carrying every circumstance to completion and laying down every boundary of protection — than to exhaust yourself day in and out trying to guide your life in a certain direction. Perhaps the strongest thing you can do is not try to push forward this moment to be a certain thing in any way, but instead listen to the moment. Risk uncertainty. Let the moment surprise you. It is vulnerable, sure, but it is also powerful. It is what allows something new to happen. 

Further, the fact that you allow yourself to be seen as soft is what invites people to want to hold you gently. Feel tenderness and you will want to be gentle. This world is so full of people putting on a performance of strength and respectability, who truly just want a place to soften. But they look around and see everyone else putting on the same performance of strength, and they don’t want to be the only weak one in the room. So they perform coldness, when all they desire is warmth. They perform logic, when they really just want to follow what feels true for them. They perform rigidity, because they believe it’s the only way they’ll stay safe. 

But when someone comes along who is soft and gentle, the world also feels safe to soften in response. “I don’t have to perform strength here.” One’s vulnerability is their strength; it allows other people to soften with them, so that they get their softest, kindest, most generous version. One’s ability to allow their desire to clearly manifest, and allow others to see it plainly, is what allows them the space to openly give to them. 

The lack of shame around wanting things normalizes their desire. So then, it normalizes other people’s act of giving it to them. When you don’t hold shame around softness, you permit other people to show up softly. They feel safe with you. 

People are genuinely looking to love deeply and gently and are aching to be vulnerable, but they’re so used to armoring up against the world so others take them seriously. Well, the ability to not take yourself and things seriously allows other people to ease up in your presence. It allows them to become playful and know they’re safe to do so. They are seeking that in their hearts, but they rarely feel a safe space for it to land. We all want to love so deeply and openly and loudly, but many think that others take that as weakness. So when someone is soft with them, they soften. They feel the safety for their softness to land without shame — so they give it. 

Your softness is the permission slip for others to be soft without shame. Your vulnerability is their permission slip to be direct without worry about their image.

The extent in which you have the capacity to be gentle with others and radically honest about what you want is the same measure in which you will receive from the world. In order to get everything you dream of in life, it requires vulnerability. Such is the cost of entry into your personal land of milk and honey. 

Don’t let the memory of your past hurt tell you that your vulnerability is a weakness. Rather, let your vulnerability tell your past hurt, “I’m not scared of you. I endured you, and here I am, living and breathing. I will not live my life in fear. I will go forward boldly.” 

You can let your past hurt be the property lines of the box you live in for the rest of your life or you can let your past hurt be your past. Perhaps the victory is not in not feeling pain — in never being hurt — but rather in staying soft throughout any circumstances.