By Taylor Shaw
It’s really easy to convince ourselves not to talk to strangers; it’s been ingrained in our systems from the age of goldfish at snack time and show and tell. We’re warned against it because it puts us in a vulnerable situation and in doing so, we’re easier to take advantage of, especially as children.
However—and I’m not encouraging that you immediately trust everyone you meet, throwing caution to the wind—there’s also great value in allowing oneself to be vulnerable. We are drawn to vulnerability, connected by it and left with a choice: to reject it or to trust in it.
In an article published in The New York Times in 2015, Daniel Jones introduces the “36 Questions That Lead to Love,” an article based on the theory that two complete strangers, who sit down and ask one another a series of increasingly personal questions can form a relationship. Whether it be love or not, the idea of this is that by allowing one another to be vulnerable and accepting the participants in their more vulnerable states, the relationship is built on a foundation of mutual trust and respect.Most people are uncomfortable with the idea of this; it’s intimidating to let others–in this case, strangers–see us in a way that shows our flaws. We want to be perceived as strong and in-control of our lives, continuously pushing forward without any failings. However, this often only distances us from others, and causes us to further alienate those who are struggling with similar issues we might be struggling with. Many who argue against social media, Instagram specifically, worry that by creating a profile of our best, most photo-worthy selves, we leave those who feel alone with greater feelings of isolation. We do this in everyday life, too. We avoid acknowledging our shortcomings for fear of judgement or rejection, when, in reality, we could be helping one another move forward and through similarly taxing situations.
In one of his viral spoken-word poems, poet Neil Hilborn writes: “Whatever you’re feeling right now there is a mathematical certainty that someone else is feeling that exact thing. This is not to say ‘you’re not special.’ This is to say ‘thank God you aren’t special.’” There is comfort in solidarity and validating one another’s experiences can allow us to create deeper relationships, rooted in genuine care and compassion. I sincerely believe that we’d all be more empathetic and understanding if we were more trusting and vulnerable in our day to day conversations, but realistically, it’s not highly likely that you’re going to tell your life story to the next person you happen upon. Instead, find a way to put yourself in a slightly socially-uncomfortable situation that has less of a possibility of backlash, even if you start with something small, like a compliment.
Compliment a classmate on his or her contribution in class, talk to your professors during office hours to tell them that points they’ve made have stuck with you for days, send a hand-written thank you note to someone who once made you feel appreciated. It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture, but learn to quiet the voice in your head that tells you no one wants to hear it or that it’ll be misinterpreted. You’re only trying to excuse yourself for your guardedness, and it’s not only detrimental to both you and others in the long run. The point is, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with others is a risk with reward. Of course, you can fear rejection or judgement, or you can put yourself in a potentially uncomfortable situation in order to encourage others to trust you, as well as to pass it on.
