What does it take to feel love and connection?
What does it take to show love and connection?
Is vulnerability the path?
Can you have a strong, loving relationship without the need to be so exposed emotionally? I do my best to answer these questions in this article.
I once received a message from someone who mentioned they found my content “refreshing and inspiring.” It had helped them recognize that their partner’s behavior was bordering on emotional abuse. They believed it wasn’t intentional on their partner’s part.
The latter part of their message was, “Why am I still in this relationship, making strides to repair and heal it? He has agreed to counseling, but he doesn’t want to talk about anything outside of our appointments.
“I used your technique of saying, ‘You may be right‘ (I’ll talk about that shortly), and also asking questions like a best friend would, and we did have a breakthrough in our communication. I was finally able to pull out what was going on inside of him.”
How a best friend talks to you is different than how a partner talks to you
What questions would you ask your partner if they were your best friend?
What kinds of questions do best friends ask?
The first thing their partner expressed was confusion over the need for vulnerability to foster attachment and connection. They genuinely didn’t seem to grasp the concept, which could explain their difficulty with vulnerability.
What can a person do to support a partner in this situation? And when is it time to walk away if they’re never ready?
No one wants to live in limbo, yet in this case, there may be a chance for the relationship to grow through this.
One particular point this person mentioned was, “I don’t think he’s doing it intentionally.” You could be onto something there. You also asked, “Why am I still in the relationship and making strides to repair and heal it?”
This is noteworthy because the responsibility to repair a relationship should never rest on the shoulders of just one person. It’s an individual’s responsibility to be the best they can be in any relationship. However, when it comes to repairing, healing, or salvaging a relationship, it’s a joint effort. Both parties should be working together to fix what’s broken. If only one person is making strides, then the approach isn’t healthy or productive.
A relationship involves at least two people working together to maintain things, keep the positivity flowing, ensure healthy communication, respect boundaries, and value each other’s paths.
Ideally, you hope that your paths align or at least run parallel so you can journey through life together, hand in hand.
In this person’s email, she emphasized the importance of being as vulnerable as possible with someone you trust deeply. Vulnerability is a cornerstone of trust, but let’s circle back to what she said about making strides to repair and heal the relationship.
If you’re the only one doing this, the relationship is unbalanced, like a ship tilting to one side. It suggests that the other person isn’t taking responsibility for their part in the relationship, whether that’s their actions, words, or how they contribute—or don’t—to the partnership.
A relationship is a work in progress involving all parties, whether between two people, within a family, or in a polyamorous arrangement.
However, it’s different with children in a family; you can’t expect them to articulate their role in the relationship’s dynamics. Instead, you can instill values of good communication, honesty, and transparency, teaching them to express themselves truthfully rather than lying, which, let’s face it, many kids do.
It’s about creating a safe space where everyone feels they can be open and honest without fear of anger or retribution.
Anger is a natural emotion, but if it leads to feeling emotionally or physically threatened when sharing something, then the environment is no longer safe. Such a dynamic can erode the sense of balance and collaboration in a relationship, which is essential.
My primary goal in a relationship is to be as true to myself as I possibly can, ideally close to 100%. It’s a challenging feat since relationships often require reaching agreements and making compromises.
It’s about expressing your feelings, finding common ground, and moving forward with momentum. When both parties are equally invested in the relationship, that’s when you see progress. Otherwise, it’s like rowing a boat with only one oar—you’ll just go in circles.
Imagine a rowboat where one person is doing all the rowing. It might be fine for a leisurely outing, but in a relationship, it’s a problem. Both people need to have an oar to maintain forward momentum and steer toward their shared destination.
If one person does all the work, they’ll eventually grow tired and resentful, wondering why their partner isn’t contributing. And sometimes, the other person might say, “You’re the one with the issue, so you do the work.”
That attitude can be incredibly frustrating and is a clear sign that the responsibility and effort are not being equally shared. It’s a situation that should definitely give you pause.
When someone tells you, “You’re the one with the issues; I think everything’s fine. You should handle it,” there’s a glaring imbalance in the relationship. It’s akin to rowing a boat in a circle because the individual putting in all the effort will eventually become exhausted, particularly when battling against the current.
Working on the relationship is not a solo job
The person who reached out is definitely right: a one-sided effort to repair and heal a relationship won’t work.
Working on or repairing a relationship is not solely one person’s responsibility. It’s a joint effort, and I could go on and on about that, but let’s move on.
The person who wrote mentioned that her partner has agreed to counseling but refuses to discuss issues outside of those sessions. This suggests he feels secure enough to open up in the counselor’s office but clams up at home.
How far can a relationship get with that approach? If conversations about your relationship are confined to counseling sessions, does that mean the only real connection and bonding occur in the therapist’s office?
Perhaps he’s more willing to be vulnerable and transparent within that safe space, which I’m not criticizing. In fact, it’s a positive step if he’s being open and progress is being made.
However, the essence of a romantic relationship is the trust that enables you to be vulnerable and to share the most intimate and sometimes darkest parts of yourself with your partner. That’s the person you should be able to rely on more than anyone else.
If that level of trust isn’t there, if you can’t be completely open and honest, what’s the next step? What happens to that energy when one partner holds back, only sharing with the counselor, and doesn’t feel safe or trusting enough to be open with their partner?
It could be due to a multitude of fears, from being misunderstood to fears of looking foolish, feeling unworthy, abandonment, or rejection. These are legitimate concerns that might prevent someone from opening up.
In a romantic relationship, trust should be at the forefront.
It’s almost more crucial than anything else because, without trust, everything else struggles to fall into place, like fitting round pegs into square holes. Without trust, it’s tough to feel safe, and without safety, it’s challenging to open your heart and be vulnerable.
So, while I understand the need to keep certain discussions within the confines of therapy, I hope this evolves into more open conversations outside of those sessions. Otherwise, the therapist’s office might become the only place where deep bonding and connection occur.
My hunch is that the therapy sessions might become an outlet for all the negative emotions, making it unlikely that you leave feeling more vulnerable and connected to your partner or that your bond is strengthening.
Indeed, therapy can be a release valve, a place where we dare to voice concerns that, outside its confines, might trigger a backlash. Therapy is incredibly versatile; it can foster positive exchanges and strengthen bonds. Ultimately, it’s about either drawing you closer together or helping you reconnect with your own truths.
However, if the growth stops at the therapist’s door and you don’t eventually carry those conversations into your daily life, you’re left with a compartmentalized relationship, which may not be conducive to long-term harmony.
Moving on to the concept of vulnerability, let’s touch on a breakthrough achieved by using a technique I’ve shared before. By simply acknowledging, “You may be right,” and asking questions as a best friend might, you pave the way for significant progress. It’s a good juncture to explore this approach further, which can be thought of as a method to diffuse resistance.
You May Be Right
Let’s dive into the strategy I’ve discussed previously, which is especially useful when conversations become a tug-of-war over convincing each other.
Instead of engaging in a futile back-and-forth, consider a different response: “You may be right.”
This simple acknowledgment can disarm the other person’s momentum. It’s similar to the principle of Tai Chi, where instead of resisting an incoming punch, you step aside, allowing the energy to pass by.
This mental “Tai Chi,” so to speak, involves acknowledging their point without resistance, which can be surprisingly disarming.
For instance, when someone insists, “You should do this,” and it doesn’t resonate with you, responding with, “You may be right,” can give you a graceful exit from the confrontation.
They might persist, but maintaining your stance with a polite, “Thanks, I’ll consider that,” keeps the energy from landing on you.
Even if they continue to press, your calm response leaves them holding onto their energy while you remain unaffected. It’s not about lying or conceding; it’s about recognizing that among the barrage of their opinions, there might be a sliver of truth.
And that’s the beauty of it—you’re not specifying what they’re right about, simply that they could be.
This tactic isn’t about being deceptive; it’s about choosing your battles and preserving your peace. When you sidestep their verbal onslaught, you remain unscathed, and they are left to deal with the energy they’ve expended. It’s a way to navigate difficult conversations without absorbing negativity, allowing you to remain centered and composed.
It’s certainly wise to steer clear of pointless conversations. I’m not suggesting you dodge every discussion—far from it. But sometimes, you encounter people who simply refuse to accept that their way isn’t the only way. They can’t stand the thought of being wrong, of not having control or of someone disagreeing with them. Recognizing who these individuals are can save you from engaging in fruitless debates.
The person who wrote said she’d been saying, “You may be right,” but it wasn’t working. I suspect what happened is that his forward, possibly aggressive, or assertive energy just didn’t hit the mark. Without resistance, it lost steam, leaving no room for him to force his perspective on her. It’s like removing the wind from someone’s sails; they can no longer sail in the same direction.
This shift occurs because, perhaps for the first time, he senses an openness, a willingness to consider his point of view, which eliminates the need for him to push an agenda.
When you don’t push back, the argument usually fizzles out, and the other person steps down from their defensive stance, potentially opening their mind. They’re used to feeding off resistance. But without that resistance, they must find a new path.
This is a moment of revelation about the other person’s true intentions. Sometimes, their main goal is to provoke disagreement, to feel justified in their righteousness. By conceding, even slightly, by acknowledging that they may have a point or expressing gratitude for bringing up a new perspective, you create space for a different kind of conversation.
In this instance, the listener said that by asking questions as a best friend would, they experienced a breakthrough. Acting like a friend rather than a hurt partner can shift the dynamic. A best friend might ask, “What happened back then? How did you feel about that? How are you now? Are you guys getting along better?”
Adopting this mindset during a heated moment is challenging. It requires a significant mental shift from being in the thick of an argument to stepping back and thinking, “If this were my best friend, what would I ask?” It’s not easy to detach from your role in the relationship, especially when you’re dealing with your own emotional triggers.
That’s why I advise against playing the coach or therapist in your own relationship, even if that’s your profession. When you’re involved, you’re susceptible to being triggered.
I’ve managed to adopt a coaching role at times, even when it concerned me, but it requires a lot of practice. It demands stepping back from your beliefs and values, offering unconditional support.
Even when someone says, “I hate you, and I want you to go away,” or “I want to leave this relationship,” it takes a tremendous amount of effort to remain unaffected and provide them with a safe space to express themselves. Though, it’s incredibly productive if you can pull it off.
In other words, if you can be there for someone without falling into your own triggers, it changes the dynamic of the conversation. It can progress constructively.
However, there’s a caveat: they might not see you as a helper, coach, or therapist; they might just be offended that you’re trying to help or upset with you.
If that happens, you’ll never be able to help them. In such cases, it’s usually better for an outsider to step in. Thankfully, the person who emailed me said their partner is seeing a therapist, which is helping a lot.
Vulnerability Is Too Scary For Some People
Continuing with the message I received, she mentioned her partner saying, “I don’t understand why we need to be vulnerable to create attachment or connection.”
She honestly believes he truly doesn’t grasp the concept of vulnerability, which is why he struggles.
How can you support someone in this situation?
Let’s consider the comment her partner made about believing ‘we don’t need to be vulnerable to create attachment or connection.’
Imagine if I showed up at your door and said, “Hey, I need your help.” You’d likely be wary, thinking, “Who is this person?” If someone approaches you, claiming they need help with a flat tire, that’s a reasonable request that doesn’t raise too many alarms.
But if they say, “I don’t want to talk about it, just help me,” that’s a different story. You’re likely to have some reservations, thinking, “I need to know what this is about before we go any further.”
If that person showed up at my door and refused to divulge details, I’d be inclined to refuse their request for help. That’s just how I operate. If they’re not forthcoming, I’m not going to assist them.
They could have a serious problem, too. But if they don’t want to go any deeper, it’s not only an orange flag that something might be up, but it’s also frustrating!
This is an example of what it feels like when someone isn’t vulnerable – when they don’t let you “in” beyond what they’re willing to show you. In the example, that person might need help, but without any details, it’s hard to sympathize with them. It’s also a little suspicious.
Vulnerability is like a window into the soul; the less someone shares about their inner world, the more challenging it becomes to build trust.
Another way to look at it is if someone new came into your life and you shared your history and your personal stories, but they chose to keep their life private. It’s not that being a private person is necessarily bad, but it can raise a red flag if the intent is to grow trust and become closer.
It’s hard to establish a sense of trust with a person who stays on the surface with their thoughts and emotions. It’s not impossible, as there are many trusting people that are this way. But in what is supposed to be an intimate relationship, not sharing at a deeper level is simply, well, not intimate!
My personal perspective on vulnerability is that the less you divulge about your inner experiences, the more elusive trust becomes.
Without trust, safety feels like a distant concept. And let’s face it, without that sense of security, love becomes a steep hill to climb. It’s tougher to truly love someone when you’re grappling with trust issues.
When someone lets their guard down with you, when they share their fears, worries, stresses, and the whole gamut of emotions—shame, guilt, and the like—it’s not about baring their soul entirely. It’s about letting you in on their struggles.
This act of sharing makes you more inclined to feel safe around them, more likely to trust them, and consequently, more capable of loving them. You feel a deeper connection to them because they’ve peeled away some emotional armor, allowing you to get closer. They’ve revealed vulnerabilities that lie near their heart, and by doing so, they’ve demonstrated that they feel safe with you and that they trust you.
Embracing vulnerability with someone naturally encourages connection and attachment—it’s inevitable. You gain a glimpse into their deepest fears, parts of them they don’t usually show to others. Their willingness to be this open with you is a testament to their trust and courage. It’s a sign that they value you enough to reveal more of themselves to you.
To be clear, vulnerability doesn’t mean full disclosure of every intricate detail of one’s life. For example, sharing every last one of your sexual fantasies might not be the wisest move.
What I’m getting at is that vulnerability can lead to a stronger connection, bonding, trust, and love. There’s a stark contrast between someone who brushes off their past with a casual “I’ve had issues, but let’s not talk about it” and someone who confides, “I had a rough childhood because of my alcoholic stepfather. I spent nights terrified in my room, listening to him rage downstairs, my mom’s tears, and country music blaring. The fear of him possibly coming upstairs to harm me was always present.”
This story, drawn from my own past, is one I share despite knowing some might judge or think less of me for it. Some might say, “Get over it.”
But sharing vulnerability is not about seeking approval; it’s about facing the possibility of being perceived as weaker by those who perhaps haven’t confronted their own self-worth issues or fears. It’s about the courage to show your authentic self, regardless of how others might react.
Fear of abandonment, rejection, and confrontation are like unwelcome shadows that follow us around, often stemming from childhood coping mechanisms, though they can originate from various experiences.
When we don’t face our own fears, we’re hesitant to let anyone else see them, let alone even know they exist. The fear is that if we expose our vulnerabilities, they might be used against us. In other words, if I show you my fears, you might exploit them.
This mindset can be a barrier to forming close relationships because closeness requires vulnerability. Vulnerability means revealing your deepest self, knowing full well someone could take advantage of you while you’re exposed. Yet, you do it anyway. And when you come out the other side unscathed, you grow closer because you’ve confirmed that the person you’ve confided in is trustworthy.
Healing Through Vulnerability
I’ve spoken in previous articles and episodes of my podcast about something from my past that no longer affects me. I’ve healed considerably since then, but there was a time when I couldn’t share that particular story without tears streaming down my face. I would need to pause and say, “Just give me a minute. This is a lot to process; I need to work through this.”
That’s what happens when you allow yourself to be vulnerable; you begin to confront old traumas and fears. When you bring these issues to light and discuss them with those you trust the most, that’s when the healing begins.
That’s exactly how I navigated my healing journey. I simply talked about it. I owned up to my embarrassment, guilt, and shame. I confessed to my past actions, to who I was, to the mistakes I made.
Not many of us like to admit some of the “dark” parts of our past, but when we do, we often find ourselves growing closer to the people we’re sharing with.
Of course, there are individuals with whom you can’t be vulnerable because they aren’t safe, and you can’t trust them not to hurt you. It’s crucial to identify who these people are.
When you find someone you can trust and share with, someone who allows you to be vulnerable and reciprocates that vulnerability, that’s when a true bond forms. These are the relationships worth nurturing. These are the relationships built on mutual trust and shared vulnerabilities.
To the person who wrote in questioning why vulnerability is necessary for creating attachment or connection, I hope my explanation sheds some light. To become closer and have a deeper connection with another person, vulnerability is essential. It’s very difficult to trust without seeing more of another person’s true self.
Thinking back to the scenario where someone comes to your door asking for help but doesn’t tell you what they need help with. You can’t even determine if you’re qualified to assist or even understand what’s going on, let alone not being able to fully trust the person asking.
But let’s say they tell you, “I foolishly drove on bald tires. I knew it was a mistake, but I did it anyway. I had my kids and wife in the car, and I didn’t want her to know. I feel so stupid. Can you help me change this tire?”
At that point, most of us would say, “Of course I’ll help you!” Their vulnerability allowed us to open our hearts and feel a bit safer and more trusting toward them.
We may not know who they are, but with that admission, they seem like they’re honest and humble. It gives us a truer sense of who they are.
And if it were me, I’d encourage him to tell his wife, too! The challenge for many is that the closest people in their lives are usually the ones they feel the least courage being vulnerable with.
If You Don’t Like The Real Me, That’s Perfect
In response to this person’s question about how she can support her partner, I’d like to tell her to consider sharing this article with him if he’s open to it. Don’t push it on him, but invite him to see why vulnerability is the key to a stronger bond and deeper connection. Explain to him that when you’re vulnerable, you create a space where trust and safety flourish, laying the groundwork for love and connection to increase and intensify.
Supporting him can be as simple as being genuine, just as I’m doing right now. Encourage him to do the same, to be himself. Because, honestly, the best gift we can offer anyone is our authenticity, in hopes that they appreciate us for who we truly are.
If I’m authentic and you’re not fond of who I am, that’s perfect. Why? Because I won’t change myself to fit someone’s expectations, and neither should you. You should always be true to yourself, and those who value and love you will naturally gravitate toward you.
On the flip side, there will be people who don’t accept you, and that’s okay, too. One of my core beliefs is if someone can’t accept me for who I am, I won’t waste time trying to build a relationship with them.
I’ve been there before. I was the person who couldn’t accept others for who they were and tried to mold and control them. It was unhealthy and emotionally abusive.
It took a series of failed relationships for me to realize that embracing someone for who they are paves the way for the most meaningful connections and the deepest love.
My personal definition of love involves supporting someone’s pursuit of happiness, even if I don’t agree with their choices or their path.
This approach can (and has) led to difficult decisions, but it’s the path of healing I chose to become someone who doesn’t try to control or change others. Accepting others for who they are instead of who I want them to be was a game-changer.
Over the last 12 to 13 years, I’ve consistently practiced acceptance, even in situations that used to bother me. And more often than not, it turns out for the better.
For instance, suppose my partner decides to do something I don’t necessarily agree with. In my mind, I decide to accept her choice, and outwardly, I express, “Whatever makes you happy, that’s what I want for you. Your happiness is my happiness.”
When she feels my support, she naturally feels closer to me. She realizes that I’m backing her happiness, even though it’s not something I’d choose for myself.
This understanding makes her feel understood and valued, which strengthens our bond. This pattern has repeated itself over the years. When I support someone in their choices, they tend to feel a stronger connection to me.
As they feel this connection, they may continue on their path or reconsider their next steps, but the key is they know they don’t need to convince me or change my mind. They understand that I accept them, and this acceptance allows them to feel closer.
This is the essence of support: Allowing someone to be themselves. However, it’s still crucial to consider your own needs and boundaries in the process.
If your partner or loved one can’t meet you halfway, then you’ve got to take a hard look at your own happiness and needs. If you find yourself endlessly supporting their needs while yours are neglected, you’re in a lopsided relationship. It’s like rowing in circles with one oar.
Yes, it’s noble to support your partner’s pursuit of happiness, but in a healthy, balanced relationship, they should be equally invested in your joy as well. That means two people equally committing to nurturing the relationship.
When Is It Time To Leave?
It’s a deeply personal decision to leave or stay in a relationship. If you’re considering this choice, you need to honestly assess whether your needs are being met or if there’s a positive trend in the right direction.
Ask yourself, “Will I be okay if nothing changes from this point forward?”
If the answer is no, but you were hoping for change while in the relationship, then you’ve got your answer. If there’s been no sign of change, there will likely never be. And that might be all you need to help you make your decision.
Look at the trend.
Has your partner shown progress?
Have they become more open and emotionally connected, and have you felt your bond strengthen?
If not, it may be time to accept that change may never come. It’s a tough realization, but it’s crucial to make decisions based on who they are now, not who you hope they’ll become tomorrow.
Yes, people can change, but banking on that could leave you stuck in an unfulfilling situation. You might decide to leave, and when you do, they may suddenly grasp the severity of the situation and tell you they’re going to change.
That’s very common, actually. When the person who’s been miserable or hurting for so long because of the other person’s behaviors or lack of connection decides to leave, the other person finally decides to make changes.
In many emotionally abusive relationships, for example, many abusers won’t change until the victim of their behaviors reaches their breaking point and threatens to go or else. It’s unfortunate that some people only commit to change when faced with the prospect of losing something precious to them.
For me, it took facing a divorce to realize that I was the problem. I had to acknowledge my role and take responsibility for my actions. I had to understand that I was the common denominator in all my failed relationships. Only when I made those admissions could I start on the path of true change and healing.
Regarding the person who wrote who is contemplating leaving, what if he does change after she leaves? What if he dives into himself and really opens up?
Remember, leaving doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the end. It’s not a definitive “I’m out of here, and we’re done forever.” It could be, but leaving can also be a temporary step. It’s not about vanishing from the earth; it’s about making a decision that might actually potentially improve the situation.
Leaving might just be the catalyst for change that’s been needed. It could prompt him to take a hard look at himself and start making serious changes.
On the flip side, you might leave and he doesn’t change, instead blaming you for ending the relationship instead of choosing to take responsibility for his unwillingness to improve. In that case, getting some distance might indeed be what’s best.
When someone you care about promises to make changes, look for consistent, day-to-day progress. If they really are changing for the better, that’s great! But be wary of old habits that refuse to die. If negative behaviors persist alongside the new, positive ones, that’s not progress. The old and the new behaviors might just cancel each other out.
