A couple of months ago, a story I wrote was shortlisted for a prize, and naturally, I shared the news with my family. My mum, the wonderful cheerleader she is, asked if she could read it. Without too much thought, I emailed her a copy.
Soon afterwards, a seed of worry began to dig around my gut. My story was about a fractured family dynamic, and while fiction, I knew my mum would probably recognize some of the experiences I’d written about. The worry that she would be upset by what I’d written quickly morphed into guilt, and I fretted about explaining myself and the story. If I could have yanked back the email and stopped her from reading it, I would have.
I needn’t have worried (my mum loved the story), but I realized this wasn’t the first time I’d felt unease creep in after laying myself bare. As I chatted with friends, I found I wasn’t alone.
From oversharing with a new friend to telling a partner we love them for the first time, requesting a pay rise, sharing a piece of creative work or setting a boundary, many moments in our lives ask for our vulnerability and then leave us questioning what have I done?!
The Vulnerability Hangover
It’s reassuring to know this experience is completely normal. Renowned storyteller and researcher, Dr Brené Brown, dubbed the phenomenon a “vulnerability hangover”.
Characterised by feelings of shame, guilt, regret and fear, vulnerability hangovers usually occur in the aftermath of taking an emotional risk. Being vulnerable, in any way, often feels scary as we move away from a sense of psychological safety. It leaves us feeling exposed and at the mercy of how others may respond.
In her TED talk on the subject, Dr Brené describes vulnerability hangovers as the “most accurate measure of courage”, but they definitely don’t feel courageous when they happen.
To find out more, I caught up with Dr Jacqueline Baulch, a clinical psychologist and the director of Inner Melbourne Clinical Psychology (@melbpsych on Instagram), who has a particular interest in vulnerability, guilt and shame.
“We had a team discussion about [vulnerability hangovers] recently, and it was clear it’s such a universal human experience,” says Jacqueline. People often think we have it all together as psychologists, but we experience the same vulnerabilities as everyone else.”
Jacqueline has noticed a distinct gendered aspect that surrounds feeling vulnerable. “If you’re not from a dominant social group — if you’re a woman or a person of colour — it can exacerbate what is a natural part of being human,” she says.
“What’s valuable about Brené Brown’s work in this area is it gives us a way to name and experience this process. There’s something really powerful about that. It allows us to step into the moments of feeling courageous, fully aware and knowing we might experience these feelings of regret, shame or guilt. It doesn’t mean the experience, what we’ve shared or how we’ve acted, wasn’t valuable.”
The vulnerability cure
Removing the opportunity to be vulnerable means removing the chance to lean into what it means to be fully human. Finding proactive ways to accept the experience of vulnerability hangovers and shift our mindset from fear to courage could be the answer to embracing those uneasy feelings that follow vulnerability.
Jacqueline shared three examples of how we might be able to begin to do this:
Focus on self-compassion
Vulnerability hangovers often arise due to long-held beliefs about how we “should” be; when we break those beliefs and share our true thoughts, feelings, dreams or fears, we risk being rejected by those around us.
Not knowing how we’ll be received and whether we’ll be rejected by those we love and respect is a painful experience. Having self-compassion is an integral part of moving through this process.
“True self-compassion is incredibly difficult, and I’m not saying you ‘have to have’ self-compassion to work through vulnerability, but being able to accept the experience as it presents itself while still holding compassion for who you are and what you’re trying to achieve can help,” says Jacqueline.
Slow down
It’s easy to get swept up in the initial buzz of taking an emotional risk, only to feel awful afterwards. Jacqueline says there’s nothing wrong with slowing things down, being mindful of what you share and taking the time to think about what you want to say or do before diving in.
Allowing yourself this time gives you the chance to mentally prepare for the full spectrum of the experience — good and bad — so you can go into it with a level head.
Remembering the name “vulnerability hangover” is useful, too, according to Jacqueline: “Through naming the process, we can start to hold better expectations that sometimes we’re not going to feel great afterwards. This can help us to accept our experience.”
Share with others
As Jacqueline found when she and her team discussed the topic, vulnerability hangovers are a natural — and essential — part of being human. Experiencing these feelings indicates that you’re actively growing and can present beautiful opportunities to grow with others.
Sharing with others can help reduce some of the core negative feelings associated with the hangover: “Shame thrives by sitting in the shadows. When we talk about it, we shine a light on it. Shame can’t stay active when it’s shared. Finding others who can relate and share their experiences with you is a great way to minimise the impact of a vulnerability hangover.”
Embrace your vulnerability
Because of the negative emotions that often surround our ideas (and experiences) of vulnerability, it’s easy to get wrapped up in the thinking that it’s something we need to avoid or combat.
But vulnerability is an essential part of learning who we are. It’s something to be cultivated with a balance of boldness and grace as we learn to value our needs and place in the world. I love Jacqueline’s advice on how naming this experience can help us better prepare and accept it for what it is — so we can focus on all the good that comes from leaning into our vulnerable selves.
Elaine is a psychologist-in-training and freelance writer, currently residing in Nipaluna (Hobart), Tasmania. She is fascinated by the ways we learn from our experiences to become more authentic versions ofourselves and the power of storytelling. You can find more of her words online at wordswithelaine.com
