The power of vulnerability | Brené Brown | TEDxHouston

This talk was given at a local TEDx event organized independently of the TED Conferences.
Brene Brown studies human connection - our ability to empathize, belong, love. In this poignant, funny talk, she shares a deep insight from her research, one that sent her on a personal quest to know herself as well as to understand humanity. A talk to share.

So, I'll start with this.

A couple of years ago,
an event planner called me

because I was going
to do a speaking event,

and she called and said:

"I'm really struggling with how to write
about you on the little flyer."

I thought, "Well, what's the struggle?"

and she said: "Well, I saw you speak,

and I am going to call you
a researcher, I think,

but I'm afraid if I call you
a researcher, no one will come

because they'll think you're
boring and irrelevant." (Laughter)

And I was like "OK."

She said: "But the thing
I liked about your talk

is that you're a storyteller.

So I think what I'll do
is call you a storyteller."

And of course the academic,
insecure part of me was like,

"You're going to call me a what?"
(Laughter)

And she said: "I'm going
to call you a storyteller."

And I was like, "Oh, why not
magic pixie?" (Laughter)

I was like: "Let me think
about this for a second."

And so, I tried to call deep on my courage

and I thought,

"You know, I am a storyteller.
I'm a qualitative researcher.

I collect stories; that's what I do.

Maybe stories are just data with a soul,
and maybe I'm just a storyteller."

So I said: "You know what?

Why don't you just say
I'm a researcher storyteller."

And she went, "Ha ha!
There's no such a thing."

(Laughter)

So I'm a researcher storyteller,
and I'm going to talk to you today

- we're talking about
expanding perception -

and so I want to talk to you
and tell you some stories

about a piece of my research
that fundamentally expanded my perception

and really actually changed the way
that I live, love, work, and parent.

And this is where my story starts.

When I was a young researcher,
a doctoral student,

my first year I had a research professor

who, on one of his first days
of class, he said to us:

"Here's the thing. If you cannot
measure it, it doesn't exist."

And I thought he was
just sweet-talking me,

I was like, "Really?"
And he was like, "Absolutely."

And so you have to understand
that I have a bachelor's in Social Work,

a Master's in Social Work,
and I was getting my PhD in Social Work,

so my entire academic career
was surrounded by people

who kind of believed in the
"Life is messy; love it."

And I'm more of the "Life's messy,
clean it up," (Laughter)

organize it, and put it into a bento box."

(Laughter)

And so to think I had found my way,
to found a career that takes me -

really one of the big sayings
in social work

is "Lean into the discomfort of the work,"

and I'm like, knock
discomfort upside the head

and move it over and get all As.
(Laughter)

That was my mantra.

So I was very excited about this.

And so I thought,
this is the career for me,

because I am interested
in some messy topics

but I want to be able
to make them not messy.

I want to understand them.

I want to hack into these things
that I know are important

and lay the code out for everyone to see.

So where I started was with connection.

Because by the time
you're a social worker for ten years,

what you realize is
that connection is why we're here.

It's what gives purpose
and meaning to our lives.

This is what it's all about.

It doesn't matter whether you talk
to people who work in social justice

and mental health and abuse and neglect.

What we know is that connection,
the ability to feel connected

is neurobiologically
that's how we're wired.

It's why we are here.

So I thought, "You know what.
I'm going to start with connection."

Well, you know that situation

where you get an evaluation
from your boss.

And she tells you 37 things
that you do really awesome

and one thing that you kind of you know,
an "opportunity for growth?"

(Laughter)

And all you can think about
is that "opportunity for growth," right?

Well, apparently this is the way
my work went as well.

Because when you ask people about love
they tell you about heartbreak.

When you ask them about belonging,

they'll tell you about their
most excruciating experiences

of being excluded.

And when you ask people about connection,

the stories they told me
were about disconnection.

So very quickly about six weeks
into this research,

I ran into this unnamed thing
that absolutely unraveled connection.

In a way that I didn't understand
or had never seen.

And so I pulled back
out of the research and thought:

"I need to figure out what this is."

And it turned out to be shame.

And "shame" is really easily understood

as the fear of disconnection.

Is there's something about me
that if other people know it or see it,

that I won't be worthy of connection?

The things I can tell you about it is:
it's universal, we all have it.

The only people who don't experience shame

have no capacity for human empathy
or connection.

No one wants to talk about it,

and the less you talk about it
the more you have it.

What underpinned this shame,

this "I'm not good enough,"
which we all know that feeling,

that "I'm not blank enough,
I'm not thin enough, rich enough,

beautiful enough,
smart enough, promoted enough."

The thing that underpinned us
was this excruciating vulnerability.

This idea of "In order
for connection to happen,

we have to allow ourselves
to be seen, really seen."

And you know how I feel
about vulnerability, I hate vulnerability.

And so I thought, this is my chance
to beat it back with my measuring stick.

I'm going in;
I'm going to figure this stuff out;

I am going to spend a year;
I'm going to totally deconstruct shame;

I'm going to understand
how vulnerability works;

I'm going to outsmart it.

So I was ready and I was really excited!

As you know
it's not going to turn out well.

(Laughter)

You know this.

I could tell you a lot about shame,

but I'd have to borrow
everyone else's time.

But here's what I can tell you
it boils down to.

This may be one of the most
important things I've learned

in the decade of doing this research.

My one year turned into six years.

Thousands of stories, hundreds
of long interviews, focus groups.

At one point, people were
sending me their journal pages,

sending me their stories,
thousands of pieces of data in six years.

And I kind of got a handle on it,

I kind of understood
this is what shame is, and how it works.

I wrote a book, I published a theory
but something was not okay.

And what it was,

is that if I roughly took
the people I interviewed,

and divided them into people
who really have a sense of worthiness

- that is what this comes down,
a sense of worthiness -

they have a strong sense
of love and belonging.

And the folks who struggle for it,

the folks who are always wondering
if they're good enough.

There was only one variable
that separated the people

who had a strong sense of love
and belonging, and really struggle for it:

That was the people who have
a strong sense of love and belonging,

believe that they are worthy
of love and belonging.

That's it.

They believe they're worthy.

And to me, the hard part of the one thing
that keeps us out of connection

is our fear that we're not
worthy of connection

was something
that personally and professionally

I feel like I needed to understand better.

So what I did is I took
all of the interviews,

where I saw worthiness,

where I saw people living that way,
and just looked at those.

What did these people have in common?

I have a slight office supply
addiction but that's another talk.

(Laughter)

So I had a manila folder and a sharpie,

I was like, "What am I going
to call this research?"

And the first words that came
to my mind were "wholehearted."

These are kind of wholehearted people
living from this deep sense of worthiness.

I wrote at the top of the manila folder,
and I started looking at the data.

In fact, I did it first in a four-day
very intensive data analysis,

where I went back
and I pulled all these interviews,

pulled the stories
and pulled the incidents.

"What's the theme? What's the pattern?"

My husband left town with the kids
(Laughter)

because I was kind of going into
this Jackson Pollock crazy thing.

Where I'm just writing
and just in my researcher mode.

And so here's what I found.

What they had in common
was a sense of courage.

And I want to separate courage
and bravery for you for a minute.

Courage, the original
definition of courage

when it first came
into the English language,

- it's from the Latin word,
cor, meaning heart -

the original definition
was to tell the story of who you are

with your whole heart.

And so these folks, very simply,
had the courage to be imperfect.

They had the compassion
to be kind to themselves first

and then to others, and as it turns out

we can't practice compassion
with other people

if we can't treat ourselves kindly.

And the last was they had connection

- and this was the hard part -

as a result of authenticity,

they were willing to let go
of who they thought they should be

in order to be who they were,

which you have to absolutely
do that for connection.

The other thing
that they had in common was this:

They fully embraced vulnerability.

They believed that what made them
vulnerable made them beautiful.

They didn't talk about vulnerability
being comfortable

nor did they talk about it
being excruciating

as I had heard earlier
in the shame interviewing.

They just talked about it being necessary.

They talked about the willingness
to say "I love you" first.

The willingness to do something
where there are no guarantees.

The willingness to breathe through

waiting for the doctor to call
after your mammogram.

They're willing to invest
in a relationship

that may or may not work out.

They thought this was fundamental.

I personally thought it was betrayal.

I could not believe I had pledged
allegiance to research, where our job -

the definition of research
is to control and predict,

to study phenomena

for the explicit reason
to control and predict.

And now my mission to control
and predict had turned up the answer

that the way to live
is with vulnerability.

And to stop controlling and predicting.

This led to a little breakdown.

(Laughter)

which actually looked more like this :
[breakdown. spiritual awakening]

(Laughter)

And it did.

And it led to what I called a breakdown,

and my therapist called
a "spiritual awakening."

(Laughter)

Spiritual awakening sounds better,
but I assure you it was a breakdown.

I had to put my data away
and go find a therapist.

And let me tell you something,
you know who you are

when you call you friends and say,
"I think I need to see somebody.

Do you have any recommendations?"

Because about five
of my friends were like,

"Woooh, I wouldn't want
to be your therapist." (Laughter)

I was like, "What does that mean?"

And they're like,
"I'm just saying, you know.

Don't bring your measuring stick!"

(Laughter)

I was like, "Okay".

And so I found a therapist.

And in my first meeting with her, Diana,

I brought in my list
of the way wholehearted live.

And she sat down and said, "How are you?"

And I said, "I'm great. I'm okay."

And she said, "Well what's going on?"

And this is a therapist
who sees therapists,

because we have to go to those
because their BS meters are good.

(Laughter)

And so I said, "Here's the thing,
I'm struggling."

And she said, "What's the struggle?"

And I said,
"I have a vulnerability issue.

And I know that vulnerability
is kind of the core of shame and fear

and our struggle for worthiness
but it appears that it's also

the birthplace of joy,
creativity, belonging, love,

and I think I have a problem,
and I need some help."

I said, "Here's the thing,
no family stuff, no childhood shit,

(Laughter)

I just need some strategies."

(Laughter)

(Applause)

Thank you.

So she goes like this.

(Laughter)

Then, I said, "It's bad right?"

And she said, "It's neither good nor bad.

(Laughter)

It just is what it is."

And I said, "Oh my God,
this is going to suck!"

(Laughter)

And it did and it didn't.

And it took about a year.

And you know how there are people

that, when they realize that vulnerability
and tenderness are important

that they kind of surrender
and walk into it:

A) That's not me.

B) I don't even hang out
with people like that.

(Laughter)

For me it was a yearlong street fight.
(Laughter)

It was a slugfest.
Vulnerability pushed, I pushed back.

I lost the fight
but I probably won my life back.

Then I went back into the research
and spend the next couple of years

really trying to understand
what they, the whole-hearted,

and what choices they were making
and what we are doing with vulnerability.

Why do we struggle with it so much?

Am I alone in struggling
with vulnerability?

No.

So this is what I learned.

We numb vulnerability.

When we're waiting for the call -

It's funny, I guess, on Wednesday
I sent something on Twitter and Facebook,

"How would you define vulnerability
and what makes you feel vulnerable?"

and within an hour and a half
I had 150 responses.

I wanted to know what's out there.

"Having to ask my husband for help
because I'm sick and we're newly married."

"Initiating sex with my husband."

"Initiating sex with my wife."

"Being turned down."
"Asking someone out."

"Waiting for the doctor to call back."

"Getting laid off."

"Laying off people."

This is the world we live in.

We live in a vulnerable world.

And one of the ways we deal with it
is we numb vulnerability.

And I think there's evidence,
and it's not the only reason

this evidence exists
but it's a huge cause.

We are the most in debt,

obese,

addicted,

and medicated adult cohort
in U.S. history.

The problem is -
and I learned this from the research -

is that you cannot
selectively numb emotion.

You can't say,
"Here's the bad stuff.

Here's vulnerability,
here's grief, here's shame,

here's fear, here's disappointment.
I don't want to feel these.

I am going to have a couple of beers
and a banana nut muffin."

(Laughter)

I don't want to feel these!

And I know that's knowing laughter,

I hack into your lives for a living.
That's "Haha, God!"

(Laughter)

You can't numb those hard feelings

without numbing
the other affects, or emotions.

You cannot selectively numb.

So when you numb those,

we numb joy; we numb gratitude;
we numb happiness.

And then, we are miserable,
and looking for purpose and meaning,

and then we feel vulnerable,

and so we have a couple of beers
and a banana nut muffin.

And it becomes this dangerous cycle.

One of the things that I think we need
to think about is why and how we numb,

and it doesn't just have to be addiction.

The other thing we do is make
everything that's uncertain certain.

Religion has gone from a belief
in faith and mystery to certainty.

"I'm right, you're wrong. Shut up."

That's it.

Just certain.

The more afraid we are,
the more vulnerable we are,

the more afraid we are.

This is what politics looks like today,

There's no discourse any more;
there's no conversation.

There's just blame.

You know how blame
is described in the research?

"A way to discharge pain and discomfort."

We perfect.

Now let me tell you,

if there's anyone who wants
to have their life look like this,

it would be me.

But it doesn't work.

Because we take fat from our butts
and put it into our cheeks.

(Laughter)

Which doesn't work!

I hope in a hundred years
people will look back and go, "Wow!"

(Laughter)

And we perfect,
most dangerously, our children.

Let me tell you very quickly
what we think about children.

They're hardwired for struggle
when they get here.

When you hold those perfect little babies
in your hands, our job is not to say,

"Look at them, look at her,
she is perfect.

My job is just to keep her perfect,

and make sure she makes
the tennis team by 5th grade

and Yale by 7th grade."

That's not our job,
our job is to look and say,

"You're imperfect
and hard-wired for struggle,

but you are worthy
of love and belonging."

That's our job. Show me
a generation of kids raised like that,

and we'll end the problems
that we see today.

We pretend that what we do
doesn't have an effect on people.

We do that in our personal lives,
we do that corporate

whether it's a bail out
or an oil spill, or a recall.

We pretend like,

what we're doing doesn't have
a huge impact on other people.

I would say to companies,
"This isn't our first rodeo, people."

We just need you to be authentic
and real and say,

"We're sorry; we'll fix it."

But there's another way,
and I'll leave you with this.

This is what I've found:

to let ourselves be seen,
deeply seen, vulnerably seen.

To love with our whole hearts
even though there's no guarantee.

And that's really hard,

I can tell you as a parent,
that's excruciatingly difficult.

To practice gratitude and joy

in those moments of terror
when we're wondering,

"Can I love you this much?
Can I believe in this as passionately?

Can I be this fierce about this?"

Just to be able to stop

and instead of catastrophizing
about what might happen,

to say, "I'm just so grateful.

Because to feel this vulnerable
means I'm alive."

And the last, which I think
is probably the most important,

is to believe that we're enough.

Because when we work from a place
that says, "I'm enough,"

then we stop screaming,
and we start listening.

We're kinder and gentler
to the people around us,

and we're kinder and gentler to ourselves.

That's all I have. Thank you.

(Applause)