Daring Greatly Chapter 2: Vulnerability Myths
Welcome to my Daring Greatly book club. This is week 2, based on chapter two. Please comment, keep reading, and share. Next Monday, we'll tackle chapter three.Some people loved to be pampered when they’re sick; they love Ginger Ale with the bendy straw and Entertainment Weekly delivered to their bedside with a few coos and a “poor baby” thrown in for good measure.There is probably something horribly wrong with me, but I hate that kind of coddling when I’m sick. (Mom, you’re reading this; Was I always this way?) For some reason, I don’t do very well with being nurtured. I like to think that I’m not a Neanderthal in most things, but in this way, I’m John Wayne and Bruce Willis's secret love child (but not the Moonlighting Bruce Willis).I also like following my plan, and will doggedly pursue it even when it is painfully obvious that a different direction is needed. Everyone else calls this being stubborn. I call it being focused.Of all the four vulnerability myths mentioned in chapter 2, I resonate most with Myth #4: We can go it alone. I don’t ask for help very much, or very well.But I am trying to change, because it's mostly pathetic, and I want my boys to grow up differently. I’d like them to cherish every Ginger Ale and every sick day. Actually, I’d like them to feel like asking for help is normal; it doesn’t mean they’re somehow less than. And I'd like them to be a little less focused than I am.Vulnerability for me is asking for help, allowing myself to be nurtured, and actually admitting that perhaps my plan wasn’t the best plan and someone else’s plan would have been better. Perhaps I don’t like feeling weak, but mostly I don’t like feeling incompetent.What is vulnerability for you?My (almost) six year old son Isaac is friends with an older boy three houses down from us, and he has started “hanging out” at his house, obviously without us. I’m definitely not ready for this, but Isaac is very mature, and his friend is very responsible (if there is a motorcycle, we haven’t seen it), so we are holding our breath, trying to appear blasé, and letting it happen.A few weeks ago, Isaac ran over there, expecting to ring the doorbell and be let in. But on this night, right as he was approaching their house, they were driving home and pulling into their driveway. They must not have noticed him, because they pulled into their garage, and waited in the car. They were talking about something, and Isaac didn’t know what to do.It was painful to watch.He meandered around the front yard for a while, sat down, got back up again, and finally started walking home. When he got home, he burst into tears.As Mary slowly talked to Isaac about what happened and how he felt, it was obvious that he still wanted to go over there, so Mary suggested that he call their house. This was very new territory for him. He had never called a friend’s house before. But he stuck his chin out impossibly far, Mary helped him dial the number, and he awkwardly but bravely asked if he could come over.Unfortunately, it wasn’t a good time. His friend had homework. Isaac asked, “Well, when is a good time for me to come over?” This must have caught his friend off guard, and he answered in a sort of non-descript way, and Isaac just handed the phone to Mary. When Mary hung up, Isaac burst into tears again.Isaac is learning to be vulnerable. So we spent lots of time explaining to him how strong and courageous he was.We are imperfectly raising our boys to take risks and learn new things. I believe this interaction is teaching Isaac that:
- He can name, and ask for, what he wants.
- He can ask for help.
- His plan might not always work, and someone else's plan might be even better.
- Doing it afraid is very brave.
What are you learning about vulnerability?What vulnerability myth most resonated with you?