[Hollylane]

I listened to the first one, and I'm listening to the second one now. They're really fantastic, thank you for sharing them, and for starting this thread.

For me, sharing my vulnerability, and my partner/friend/family member feeling comfortable enough to share their vulnerability with me, are displays of strength.

I have been told many times, that my ability to cry, and my openness in expressing my emotions clearly, are signs of weakness. That it is my softer, more sensitive feminine side that makes me unable to contain my feelings or tears. I've even had people say that because I was sobbing, and asked for a few moments, before continuing a conversation while I was emotional, that I was being hysterical. This brings back memories of the days when slapping a woman to stop her from crying was acceptable.

Thankfully, I no longer buy into that type of thinking. Today, I know that my ability to be emotionally raw, to be honest about my feelings with not only myself, but others, is one of my greatest strengths. If I didn't possess these strengths, I don't think that I would have had all of the tools I needed to recover from sexual assault, sexual, physical, and emotional abuse, or cope with the amount of pain that I deal with, nearly every day, that is related to medical conditions. For me, my vulnerabilities are expressed in a number of ways, including both tears and humor (sometimes both at the same time), and being able to have an open and honest conversation (while remaining open minded), despite how uncomfortable the topic is. I also feel that my ability to feel vulnerable makes me more empathetic to others, and at times, drives me to reach out to others that are in pain.

At work, they call me The Bleeding Heart Rep, because I frequently openly empathize with my customers, and share personal struggles with them when I feel it is appropriate. Sometimes some of my customers are so shocked that someone is truly listening to them and expressing empathy, that they become vulnerable themselves, and dissolve into tears (which, of course, makes me cry too). Every time I get a new supervisor at work, they try to change this about me, and tell me that I need to practice being detached. No thanks, I like not being an unfeeling robot.

It pains me, when I witness someone that I love, or sometimes even strangers, who bottle their emotions, and are unable to express themselves other than through anger, defense, or denial, and feel shame if they are not able to maintain their defensive wall. They tell themselves that their ability to disconnect, hold back, and disassociate from their emotions, means that they are emotionally stronger.