What Stoicism, People-Pleasing, and Avoidance Have in Common
“Being invulnerable creates a dull, disconnected existence. You deserve to experience all the colors of life –– dare to be vulnerable.” Lisa Merlo-Booth
Most people want emotional intimacy and genuine connection in their lives; I suspect that you are no different. You might want more connection with your spouse, romantic partner, friends, children, co-workers, or others. Common attempts at building connections for males often center around doing tasks such as mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, or “providing for your family” by working hard. Whereas, if you’re female, you may lean more into talking and emotionally supporting those you love as a key way you build closeness with others.
Or maybe, no matter how you self-identify, you use sex, adventure, or (fill in the blank) as your primary mode of connecting. Regardless of what pathway you choose for building connection, the hard truth is that no path towards connection and intimacy can succeed without vulnerability.
Let me say that again: No matter how much you crave, want, or strive for connection, if there’s no vulnerability, you won’t have connection.
Saying nice things, taking someone out to dinner, having sex –– these may all lead to positive feelings or even amazing moments. However, without vulnerability, emotional intimacy and deep connection won’t happen.
For men, this is bad news. Our world raises males from the day they are born to be invulnerable.
- Have sex, but don’t fall in love.
- Provide for your family, but don’t be too “soft”— nurturing is for women, not men.
- Be tough. Be strong. Suck it up.
- Be stoic and handle everything with nerves of steel.
- Never show “weakness.”
In other words, males are raised for dis-connection. Don’t feel, don’t share, don’t be weak.
The irony is that being stoic isn’t strong –– it’s distancing. Having endless sex without allowing yourself to fall in love is lonely and empty. Only showing anger rather than fear, sadness, or guilt is off-putting at best, and scary, intimidating, or abusive at worst. And focusing most of your time and energy on “providing for” your family at the expense of “being with” your family leaves you on the outside –– and them not truly knowing you.
For women, needing vulnerability for true connection is also bad news. Most females are raised to “be nice,” go along to get along, and to not “rock the boat.” But honesty is a non-negotiable component of vulnerability. When you refuse to upset someone, rock the boat, or dare to have hard conversations, you block connection and undermine trust.
- Telling your husband that everything’s fine and then complaining to your friends about how unhappy you are in your marriage isn’t “nice”–– it’s cruel.
- Pretending you like going out with one friend only to badmouth her to another is unsafe to both friends.
- Telling your employee that they’re doing fine only to repeatedly pass them up for promotions isn’t leading –– it’s cowering.
Believing stoicism is “strength,” or that dishonesty is “niceness,” are just two ways genuine connection is broken or blocked. And both fall under a much larger umbrella: invulnerability. Being invulnerable means not allowing yourself to truly be known. It’s a pattern that cuts across gender –– when any of us avoid hard emotions, stop taking emotional risks, or consistently stay in our relationship comfort zone, our connections starve.
Brene Brown defines vulnerability as, “the emotion we experience when we feel uncertain, at risk, and emotionally exposed.” In relationships, one of these experiences happens almost all the time. If you choose to duck every time they arise, then you are living in a fortress, not a relationship.
Challenge: Vulnerability is hard. Being honest is scary. Taking risks on the job, in your home, or in the world is rife with uncertainty. But not doing any of the above keeps you “safely” disconnected from one of the richest experiences life has to offer—thriving connections. Dare to let down your walls, starting with those you trust the most. Notice what happens as a result—within you, and between you and others.
