The power of my vulnerability

In a society where we are educated as heroes triumphant over wicked, where we must be tall and robust, where life is seen as a struggle, real courage is found in our hidden, timid, fearful faces.

I hold back my tears… in a shapeless and hideous grimace. All this so as not to cry in front of him, them, her. I apologize for being taken by emotion. I find myself stupid. I want to hide. I hide in my hands, behind my hair. And if I could, I would go a long way, ashamed.
This scene I have experienced often
I still live it, and above all, I see it, attend, and accompany it. During my workshops and my training, it is not uncommon for participants to be subject to emotional turmoil, awakenings, and crack. Right now, something magical is happening in the air—the group dynamic changes. Everything becomes soft, sensitive, luminous. A source of perpetual wonder is found in their tears.
Deep inside me, a little girl exults with joy and gratitude. For a few seconds, she finally witnesses the manifestation of what is most precious in the other.
This moment when the armor cracks, when everything shatters, when the inner earth breaks to give birth to the tsunami that will come to sweep, cleanse everything.
A priceless gift that everyone should afford
That of being vulnerable in the eyes of all. And in this same spirit, we – who are observers – are the receptacle of this magnificent present that opens our hearts.
A tiny movement is then created: our gaze enters within ourselves, inward to see our reflection, our echo, to this vulnerability that touches us and speaks to us of our shared humanity.
“Our common humanity is absolutely not in our successes. »Dominique Steiler, TEDxIsereRiver 2013
As the joy of victories and accomplishments inspires and pushes outward, sadness creates a bond that allows everyone to be carried in an inner movement.
I forge a link with the other, of course, but also with myself.
I connect with this person who opens her privacy in front of me, and she lays down everything fragile in her. Its fears, its flaws, its disappointments, its failures, its wounds, its history. The other opens a door for me that I never knew of my vulnerability to connect to it.
In my life experiences, I have learned much more by showing myself to be vulnerable than by trying to play my role as a “strong girl”.
Vulnerable does not mean “weak.”
While the common belief, implicit and firmly held, is that showing off, confessing, and assuming fragile is a danger to public order. We would immediately be considered “weak”.
However, on the contrary, vulnerability arises in the space of force—the strength to express something different.
The strength to be accurate, to dare to walk the least comfortable, the least safe path, with an open heart to all possibilities.
No one can hurt a moose that leaves this mighty place. Nothing and no one can attack the space of truth where you get ahead of the blows by assuming who you are. If you feel hurt, another side of you feels and speaks to you – not rooted in vulnerability – and that demands attention, care, and listening.
These situations where I have sweeties
The ones where I can’t “be the fighter”, the ones where I need others, the ones where I confess I’m lost, the ones where I don’t have all the answers, all the solutions. And once the hard times passed, when they presented themselves, I was never disappointed to have taken this step.
Looking back, I realize that I put myself in a vulnerable position as soon as I had the chance.
A year was traveling alone 15,000 km from home, then a year moving to Canada on my own, intellectual and emotional challenges, unfamiliar contexts, skills that I did not have, wounds from the past that have recurred.
So many risk-taking, moments of discomfort – even moments when fear seized my guts in a wholly irrational and agonizing way – that made me grow up.
I owe it more to my will to walk towards my fragility than to my “easy” victories in my personal and professional development.
Victories that did not appeal to this slight vibration in the belly and in the heart that tells you”I’m afraid”, “I don’t think I can do it”, “it’s dangerous for you”, “and if…?”.
The path of fragility reveals our true courage.
Whether it is “successful” or not, the purpose does not detract from the lived experience, and in any case, successful – it – since it is rich in lessons. There are no opportunities to take another path, evolve, or prove to yourself that you are capable of daring.
The success of any project is made up of failures and disappointments, deviations and disappointments, all of which make us reconsider our perception of the path best suited to our life.
It is by planting things that you can grow.
The milestones for success, the happy ends, are only more significant and more satisfying! Urge us to move even further in this direction, where fragility becomes the most beautiful proof of courage for oneself and others.

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