The Strength of Weakness

  

While we all have a greater appreciation for wellness and vulnerability, I have noticed a lingering sense of equating strength with not showing weakness. For example, you see someone getting emotional, composing themselves, and continuing on, and you say “wow, the strength of this person to carry forward through their difficulty.” As if the opposite would be true if they could not hold back the tears, that somehow they weren’t strong enough to stifle the expression of pain.

Maybe that’s true. Maybe when I, publicly or privately, bawl my eyes out, it’s because I am truly not strong enough. Yet I would argue that, when I see people being this vulnerable, I don’t think how weak they are. Rather, I marvel at how strong they are. I recognize that their sorrow is natural and appropriate, and I esteem them for expressing it. 

Let me go deeper. Feeling pain means that something matters enough to hurt, which is a truly noble characteristic. Expressing pain means that you are in tune with yourself and willing to have your outward actions be consistent with your innermost thoughts, which to me is a powerful ability. This is why I hold people who show weakness in high regard. They are strong in the midst of their weakness. They are strong because they are feeling and expressing weakness. 

Boys and men in particular, as well as leaders, can struggle against society’s expectation that strength comes from stifling our emotions. I wish that were not the case. Life hurts sometimes, and we all do well for ourselves and those who we lead if we are willing to feel and express that pain.