The Courage to Be Seen: Why Vulnerability Matters in Therapy and Life
By Jen Bennethum
In the therapy room, we often speak of safety, trust, and healing. But beneath these pillars lies a quieter, more tender truth: healing begins with vulnerability. It’s the moment a client whispers, “I’ve never told anyone this before.” It’s the pause before tears. It’s the body leaning in, or pulling away, as the heart decides whether it’s safe to be seen.
“To feel is to be vulnerable.” – Brené Brown
Why Vulnerability Feels So Risky
Brené Brown defines vulnerability as “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.” It’s no wonder we resist it. Many of us have learned—through trauma, rejection, or systemic invalidation—that being open can lead to pain. In Internal Family Systems (IFS) terms, our protective parts step in to shield our exiled wounds. These parts may present as perfectionism, caretaking, or emotional detachment. They’re not flaws—they’re survival strategies.
When vulnerability has historically led to criticism, neglect, or betrayal, our nervous systems remember. The body tightens. The breath shortens. The impulse to retreat or appease kicks in. This is not weakness. This is wisdom born from experience.
The Neurobiology of Guardedness
Trauma-informed frameworks remind us that vulnerability is not just emotional—it’s physiological. When we risk emotional exposure, our limbic system scans for danger. If past wounds are triggered, protective responses like dissociation, hypervigilance, or numbing may surface. Therapy, then, becomes a space not just for talking, but for gently reconditioning the body to feel safe in connection.
Why Vulnerability Is Essential in Therapy
Therapy invites us to unblend from our protective parts and reconnect with our core Self—the part of us that is curious, compassionate, and courageous. Vulnerability is the bridge. It allows us to name our grief, explore our shame, and reclaim our unmet needs.
When a therapist meets vulnerability with attunement—not judgment—it rewrites the relational script. Clients begin to internalize a new truth: “I can be seen and still be safe.”
This is especially powerful for those navigating chronic PTSD, systemic oppression, or relational trauma. Vulnerability becomes not just a risk, but a reclamation.
Vulnerability Beyond the Therapy Room
Outside of therapy, vulnerability deepens relationships. It’s the moment we say, “I’m struggling,” or “I care about you,” or “I need help.” These moments foster intimacy, authenticity, and mutual growth. They also require discernment. Not every space is safe. Not every person is ready. But when we find those who can hold us with care, vulnerability becomes a sacred exchange.
A Ritual for Reconnection
If you’re exploring vulnerability in your own life or with clients, consider a simple ritual: Grounding: Begin with breath or movement. Let the body know it’s safe. Naming: Identify a part of you that wants to speak. Is it the pleaser? The protector? The wounded child? Witnessing: Speak from that part, not for it. Let it be heard without shame. Reflection: Ask, “What does this part need?” and “What would it feel like to be met with compassion?”
This practice honors the complexity of our inner world and builds the muscle of emotional exposure in a paced, intentional way.
Moving Forward
Vulnerability isn’t a destination—it’s a practice. It’s messy, brave, and deeply human. In therapy and in life, it’s how we heal. Not by being perfect, but by being real.
If this resonates, I’d love to hear how you are navigating vulnerability. What parts show up? What helps you to feel safe enough to soften? Please feel free to reach out to us at Integrate Therapy and Wellness Collective so that we can help to walk with you on your journey to being vulnerable and to wholeness.
