Since being vulnerable does not
always come easily to many of us, it is important to have empathy for anyone
who struggles with it. The internet is flooded with writings and talks on encouraging
people to show vulnerability. Having trouble expressing it often gets associated
with a lack of authenticity. Such judgmental interpretations can frequently trigger
shame in people who don’t feel safe enough to be vulnerable due to certain socio-demographic
factors. There is a misconception that expressing vulnerability is a matter of
courage or just making a mental decision. By helping others reclaim it, I have
realized the issue has little to do with bravery or honesty. It has more to do with the state of one’s nervous system. By
having a somatic perspective on understanding vulnerability, we can open a new
path toward befriending it.
There are many different paths toward
befriending vulnerability which includes using the body to build a greater
capacity to embrace it. Our response to many emotional experiences can be felt
in our bodies. For example, Lucas, a 30-year-old cis gender gay man, disclosed
having difficulty asking guys on dates. Doing so makes him feel very
vulnerable. Among other bodily reactions, he reported tightness in his chest
along with uncomfortable restricted breathing when faced with uncertainty to his
invitation. Lucas has a history of growing up with the stress of homophobic mistreatment.
He often felt unsafe at school due to the devastating experience of being
bullied or called derogatory names. Fight or flight was not an option when he
was feeling helpless and hopeless dealing with his traumatic school environment.
Instead, his body resorted to numbing and shutting down. This response became his
default whenever faced with overwhelming situations like entering a vulnerable
state. Lucas’ reactions to becoming vulnerable had nothing to do with a choice or
a lack of courage. It had more to do with his body’s threat alarm being frequently
on.
In general, LGBTQ children are often
at risk for being bullied, and they need protection. Lucas and many other queer
youngsters growing up place their trust in individuals and institutions who
were supposed to protect them from harm. Failure to receive such a protection
at a critical developmental phase became a source of hurt and betrayal. The trauma of growing up gay in a world that did not embrace LGBTQ identity with kindness
and acceptance led Lucas and many others to associate vulnerability with fear
and betrayal. Given his traumatic history, Lucas needed help learning how to
feel safe in his body when becoming vulnerable. Regulation of his psychophysiological
arousal in response to vulnerability has been an important healing task for
Lucas, especially when it came to making connections with other single gay men.
Taking a somatic approach toward working
with vulnerability involves understanding the role of the autonomic
nervous system (“ANS”). The ANS is the part of the nervous system
that governs the fight, flight, or freeze instinct and is
responsible for the unconscious bodily functions like breathing, digesting
food, and regulating the heart rate. It also plays a vital role of supplying
information from our organs to our brain. This system works
automatically (autonomously), without a person’s conscious effort. The
ANS is central to our experience of safety, connection with others, and our
ability to bounce back from life’s overwhelming experiences. Relying on
neuroception, a term coined by Dr. Stephen Porges, our ANS can differentiate
between safety, danger, and a life threat. Neuroception, as Deb Dana (author
of The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy) explains, is automatic, and it
does not go through the thinking part of our brain. Everything from sound to
smell to temperature in our environment, people’s tone of voice, and eye
contact can influence our neuroception. It is like “internal surveillance” that
looks for cues of safety and danger inside the body, in one’s environment, and in
relationship with people. It helps us take immediate action in the face of
danger or threat. The goal of neuroception is to keep us safe and alive. Based
on my training in Somatic Experiencing®, Touch Skills Training for
Trauma Therapists, Polyvagal Theory, and other body inclusive approaches, I have
learned the autonomic nervous system is a relational system that has been
shaped by experience. We now know previous negative life experiences and
traumas can significantly affect how our neuroception accurately assesses
safety, danger, or a life threat. This can explain why many people including
Lucas with history of being judged, humiliated, and violated often avoid
entering a vulnerable state. Their faulty neuroception causes them to feel unsafe
in the absence of real danger.
Since “how we move through the world
is guided by our ANS,” it is important to examine how growing up in a
homophobic and transphobic environment negatively affected the working of the ANS. In my counseling work with gay,
lesbian, bisexual, queer identified, and transgender people who have experienced
homophobic or transphobic mistreatment, I have noticed their nervous systems are
often shaped toward self-protection versus making connections. Repeated past humiliation
and rejection by others have made it difficult for many of them to be
open and willing to love and be loved. Given the important role that ANS can play in
people’s ability to embrace vulnerable situations and form relationships, it is
important to learn how to regulate it. When working in a regulated way, the ANS
does not enact the response to the present moment situation based on one’s past
conditioning.
Autonomic regulation has less to do
with talking about our past trauma events and more to do with shifting our
autonomic state that can be stuck on FFF (fight/flight/freeze) toward safety
and relaxation. When Lucas was invited to share about his history, it was done
for the purpose of having greater empathy for his suffering and learning how
fear became associated with vulnerability. Lucas’ personal stories with
homophobic mistreatment was handled with care and in a titrated manner to avoid
re-traumatization. In general, encouraging people to get into their trauma
stories all at once can become overwhelming for them because the nervous system
cannot tell the difference between the original event and the telling of the
event. Healing does not always need to involve re-telling the story. As Peter
Levine, the founder of Somatic Experiencing International, stated, “Trauma
is not in the event, but in the nervous system.” Based on my personal and
clinical work, I also concur that trauma becomes embodied during a person's
life and can affect the working of the ANS. Much of the healing from this
trauma needs to happen through the body. In particular, the nervous system
needs to be regulated.
The work of Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal
Theory has brough to light the role of the vagus nerve in how we experience
safety and connection. The vagus nerve which is divided into two pathways, the
dorsal vagus and the ventral vagus, is the main component of the
parasympathetic nervous system. The ventral vagal of parasympathetic system
plays a crucial role in our experience of safety in our bodies. Activation of the
ventral vagal force in the ANS includes but not limited to awareness and
tracking of pleasant bodily sensations. For example, when I invited Lucas to notice
his body being supported by the couch, he commented, “I can sense my body feels
relaxed and comfortable.” By bringing awareness to comfortable sensations in
his body, he began to breathe deeper and noticed a sense of expansion in his
chest area along with his shoulders becoming more relaxed. For Lucas, tracking bodily
sensations that were comfortable invited the flow of the ventral vagal of
safety and connection.
Another useful somatic
intervention involved identifying and embodying helpful resources that contributed
to his healing journey. For example, attending LGBTQ Pride events and
volunteering at the Los Angeles LGBT+ Community Center felt empowering for
Lucas. By tracking his pleasant bodily sensations as he was sharing about these
helpful resources,
he was creating a physiological event in his body which contributed to regulating
his nervous system. As the therapy session progressed, he found it easier
to imagine and plan on asking a guy he met at his gym on a date without experiencing
tension in his body. Repeated awareness of pleasant sensations in his body increased
his ability to distinguish sensations of distress versus sensations of
well-being. The more he focused on what felt good on the inside the more his autonomic
dysregulation settled, and his window of tolerance expanded.
What makes each one of us feel
vulnerable is unique and personal. What feels vulnerable to Lucas can feel quite
different to another. Regardless of what activates it, the admission ticket to
a more meaningful life for Lucas involved embracing vulnerability. It was
important for him to liberate vulnerability from years of cumulative stress of
dealing with homophobic bullying, and other fearful situations that he had to
endure. By welcoming vulnerability and learning how to work with its
transformative power, he was able to enrich his life. A “body-inclusive”
therapeutic approach offered Lucas tools and practices to lower his activation
and regulate his nervous system in response to his life stresses.
© Dr. Payam Ghassemlou MFT,
Ph.D. is a mental health counselor in private practice in West Hollywood,
California. www.DrPayam.com
*Names and other details have
been changed for privacy and confidentiality.
