Chapter 5: Being Vulnerable and Accepting Support

Another step on My Journey Through Calamity

I would often speak to clients about allowing themselves to be vulnerable and to look at what was holding them back from being fully open. As I now have no choice but to accept support in my process of recovery from my traumatic fall,  I realize how much I’ve held myself back from being vulnerable.

I recently came across a poem by the Chilean poet and Nobel prize winner Pablo Neruda entitled “You Start Dying Slowly,” in which Neruda enumerates the ways in which we don’t live fully, such as not reading, not stopping to listen to the sounds of life, not appreciating ourselves, not letting go of our habitual way of doing things, etc. This particular stanza really stood out for me as I go through this process of healing:

You start dying slowly:

When you kill your self-esteem,

When you do not let others help you.

I’ve been contemplating why Neruda couples killing our self-esteem and not allowing others to help us in this stanza, and what it means to me personally.   I have long prided myself on being strong and independent.  My years of self-reflection taught me that this is connected to my role in my family as the first born and the tacit message I received from my parents to be the good girl, the strong one, the one who didn’t need help and who was to be seen and not heard.  Abiding by this message was how I gained acceptance in the family order. Looking back at Neruda’s words, I see that my self-esteem was tied to being strong and not needing help. In addition, I got the message that I didn’t deserve others’ help. 

Because of the messages I received in childhood,  it has been difficult to let others see my human frailties and I have felt too ashamed to ask for support. As a result, I have missed out on true intimacy and connection to others. 

Renowned shame researcher Brené Brown says that connection is the essence of human experience. In her research, she found that what impeded connection was shame—the feeling that something inside us prevented us from being worthy of love. Transcending that shame involved vulnerability, what Brown calls the “excruciating act of allowing ourselves to be truly known.”

My husband Tim has given me unconditional support in attending to my physical and emotional needs at this difficult time.  I find myself resisting his support at times, due to my ingrained habitual tendencies.  When I do that, I getting impatient and shut down, “dying slowly.”  On the other hand, when I accept Tim’s support, I live more authentically and fully, allowing myself to be truly known.  The beautiful result has been a blossoming of our connection in ways I never thought possible.  I am filled with immense gratitude.  Accepting support has made me stronger, not weaker.