No One Cares: Why Showing Vulnerability is Overrated

We often talk about our ability or inability to express ourselves emotionally. Experts tell us that being vulnerable can help us to better know ourselves, while cultivating and strengthening our relationships with others. But does anyone really care?

A vulnerable person is someone who belongs to a group within society that is either oppressed or more susceptible to harm. Yes, as a Black woman- this would make me vulnerable, but according to Dictionary.com, vulnerability is one’s willingness to show emotion or to allow one’s weaknesses to be seen or known; one’s willingness to risk being emotionally hurt.

As a Black woman, I’ve been conditioned by society to NOT show any signs of vulnerability, although I am part of a group that society considers to be vulnerable. I know if I cross that emotional line there will be harsh consequences. Instead, I am supposed to always show my strong side and take whatever comes my way with abnormal amounts of strength and superpowers.

Here are just a few examples of me showing vulnerability while grieving and the consequences/treatment I endured…

Last week as I was making the arrangements for my son’s memorial service, I encountered a few people who commented on how strong I was because of how I navigated doing business (death is a business). I wasn’t strong, I was in my element and despite my grieving as a mother, I still asked questions, said no with my entire chest, and demanded excellence - which is typical me.

But when I was vulnerable, I received push back - starting with the sista who designed the programs and sent me the proof at the midnight hour. She did a horrible job (and I am not exaggerating). When I told her the proof was unacceptable, she started telling me how all of her other clients were pleased with her work and she didn’t understand why I was so upset (please note, she was grocery shopping). In that moment, I lost it. I had been doing my best to be pleasant, but she didn’t care and it showed. She displayed no empathy or compassion, which one would expect from a person who specializes in funeral services and deals with death everyday of the week. Her attitude was, “You need me, I don’t need you, and you’re going to take whatever I give you.” All I wanted was for her to do her job correctly and I expressed this. Her response was, “If you want me to give you excellent work, you need to control your emotions and learn how to work with me.” My response was, “Ma’am…what you consider to be excellence is in my opinion below average - this looks like shit. Matter of fact…this resembles a club advertisement, not a memorial service and it’s a bad club flier at that!” Fuck being professional at that point, she had gotten on my last good nerve, and if she didn’t care, neither did I.

Then there were the relatives who said, “If you need anything just ask.” Well I made the mistake of asking for help planning a repast (dinner after a funeral/memorial) and the moaning and groaning begin. But first, let me backtrack. For me to ask for any type of help is a miracle. When you look up the word independent in the dictionary there is a big picture of me. Finally, after a lot of complaining, my younger brother stepped in and handled the dinner (note, he was by my side throughout everything I endured last week and he saw me riding this emotionally rollercoaster - he handled it and everyone like a champ).

And I can’t forget about the organizer who sent me an email the day after I posted the article about losing my son, to inform me that her agency was going to use another speaker for their retreat - this was AFTER we had gone back and forth for 2 weeks about accommodations (we had agreed on my speaker fee). Was it a coincidence? I don’t think so. I simply responded, “Thanks for letting me know.”

Lastly, there were the ex in-laws who either came to the services and didn’t speak to me OR they let me know they only came to give their condolences to my ex-husband (now you partially understand why I’ve been divorced for 15 years). I knew their pettiness was from the years of my ex bad mouthing me to them. Still, I smiled through the tears and pain and thanked them for coming, even though they hadn’t seen my son since he was 7 or 8 years old, and I really could have cared less about their sympathy. I was hurting and they were trying to be upset about made up circumstances and hearsay that had nothing to do with them personally, nor my son’s passing.

After this past week and the extra turmoil I endured during the most vulnerable time in my life, here are my thoughts about vulnerability overall, but especially while one is grieving. Vulnerability is overrated. When experts stand on their pedal stools and tell us to be ‘vulnerable’, most don’t know what in the hell they are talking about, have never had to really open up and be willing to allow emotional hurt they can’t control to enter into their lives, and they don’t understand that society truly doesn’t give a damn about how any of us feel, but especially Black women. At the first sign of weakness we will be attacked, not celebrated - hence, why many of us keep our emotions to ourselves.

These days my vulnerability is contained to my home in front of my oldest son and through this newsletter (I cried writing this). But that’s it. The rest of the world isn’t getting anything, because I don’t have anything left to give. And that is perfectly okay. I don’t have the willingness to opening myself up to being emotionally hurt by strangers…hell at this point relatives and associates too, and it is okay for me to say no, not right now, or that will never happen (whatever that is). After what I went through, I understand I don’t have to show my vulnerability to the outside world, nor do I want to. I also don’t owe anyone anything, now nor ever. In this moment and for days to come, I just want to continue to be…

Dr. Carey Yazeed is a behavioral scientist and the author of Unbreak My Soul: How Black Women Can Begin To Heal From Workplace Trauma. Dr. Yazeed specializes in creating safe spaces for professional Black women to exhale. Interested in having her speak at your upcoming event, click here.