The Birth of Venus, by Alexandre Cabanel
I’m getting a bit tired of long intros and prefer getting straight to the point, which might be explained to our ever-shortening attention spans. Lucky for me, this story does not require a long introduction. So, let’s just get right to it.
Today’s subject is something that I read about while doing research for work. You know, that work that I should be doing instead of writing this. So, getting right to the point, as promised, what actually is a vulnerability hangover? According to several articles I read today, it’s defined as that point of doubt and second-guessing people often reach right after sharing something personal about themselves. It applies to everything, whether it’s sharing an emotional story with a friend after a couple of drinks or oversharing about your life online. Apparently, it’s a fairly common response. It simply allows your mind to deal with the fact that you have disclosed information you usually keep to yourself. So, it’s pretty much a “yeah… I just did that” moment.
While discussing this subject, it’s pretty hard not to fall victim to it immediately. It’s hard to talk about the reasons for a vulnerability hangover without experiencing it in the process. It feels like a vicious cycle, but I’ll keep it simple. What I want to talk about more than the emotions themselves is why exactly we experience that feeling. Sharing your emotions and opening up is supposed to be normal, right? And, of course, I don’t mean telling your deepest, darkest secrets to any stranger you encounter, but sitting down with your friends and opening up should not be immediately followed by regret. So why do we do it? Why do we worry so much about opening up? Maybe it comes from the fear of being misunderstood or not understood at all. Or the fear of being perceived as different and weird. Or the fear that once we share something, the ones closest to us will never look at us the same way. Or is it just a general lack of vulnerability that we have as a society? In today’s little essay, I will try to address all these assumptions individually, in my humble and (I can’t stress this enough) non-professional opinion. Maybe by addressing them, I will help myself and others like me feel vulnerability hangover a little less.
So, let’s start with the first one, the fear of being misunderstood. It seems pretty simple: if we explain our emotions well, no matter how complex, those around us should understand, right? Well, not really. We all know it’s not that simple. Apart from the fact that the more complex and layered an emotion, the harder it often is to put it into words, everyone has their own experiences and inevitably tries to fit our emotions into boxes they’ve already created in their head based on the things that happened to them. When explaining complex emotions, I often struggle to open my mouth long enough for any real emotions to be expressed. Thank god for texting. I think we’re all way better at finding the right thing to say when we can revise and edit before sending. Even though something feels clear in your mind, that doesn’t mean it’ll come across clearly in words. Often, it seems so clear to us because we have personally experienced the journey those emotions went through. We know where they came from and why we interpreted them in a certain way. When we try to explain it to others, it’s important to remember that even if they might have similar emotions, their experiences and coping mechanisms may have led them to interpret these emotions differently. But just because you went through a similar experience in a different way or a different experience in a similar way, it does not mean you can’t still be there for each other. This may seem obvious, but we often need to check ourselves when it comes to relating to the struggles of others through our lens and getting frustrated when other people try to do the same to us. When we share emotions, all we need is support and maybe some outside perspective. Only if it’s being asked for, though. Simple support is often better for vulnerability than any common ground we try to establish.
On to number two: the fear of being seen as weird or different. Honestly, who gives a shit at this point. Living in a world of 7 billion people who go through an infinite amount of different experiences every day, not being a little weird is weirder. And when it comes to being seen as strange, everyone is entitled to their opinion. No matter how different it might be from how you see yourself, that opinion should not affect your choice to express your feelings. Even if you end up being judged for being different, being different but honest is far better than lying to maintain others’ positive opinions of you.
Now, let’s unpack number three: people never look at you the same way again. I think I struggle the most with this one. So, I can’t explain as much as I can share my thoughts. People can react in many different ways when you share yourself with them—the more complex your story, the more complex the reaction. While I have dealt with and understood most of these reactions, one still bothers me to this day, and it’s a pity. I think it bothers most people. This is not only because it makes you feel like the person you confided in now looks down on you but also because it makes you think that every time they see you from that point on, it will be the only thing they feel. Pity is not the kind of reaction that you forget. It stays with you, making you more vulnerable with each new interaction. So for the rest of your relationship, it will be there; that one time, they said, “Oh.. I’m so sorry that happened to you”. The thing about pity, though, is that it doesn’t always come from a bad place. Expressions of genuine compassion can sometimes give off a slight scent of pity. Sure, there are some instances when people try to use your openness to manipulate or put you down. But honestly, these aren’t the people whose opinions or words should matter to you anyway. Only those who’ve never allowed themselves to be vulnerable fail to understand the true nakedness of vulnerability. And what a sad existence that is. Getting back to the point that I feel like I lost somewhere along the way, people looking at you differently is not a bad thing or something to be afraid of. We all know more about those closest to us now than we did when we just met them; therefore, we look at them differently. This does not mean we will define them by the things they share or the emotions they express. It just means we know them better.
Finally, we come to the general lack of discussion around vulnerability. That’s a big one. I know that people raised in environments that encourage sharing have fewer problems with being vulnerable. For the rest of us, it comes with practice. If you were raised in a household where sharing your emotions was uncustomary and the phrase ‘just pull yourself together’ was commonly heard, opening up is often a struggle. Especially when you have been told not to do so for most of your young life. Once you take the first step, it gets easier and easier. That first, probably drunk, conversation where you finally let your guard down and express everything you wanted to say; it opens doors to deeper connections. The kinds that last a lifetime. I also feel compelled to mention that struggling to share our emotions can often prevent us from getting the help we need to process them. It took me years to really get in touch with a therapist, and it took several sessions to finally shake off that pesky vulnerability hangover after each one.
Surrounding yourself with people you feel comfortable opening up to and who accept your vulnerability without seeing it as a weakness is essential. And making sure that more and more people know that expressing your emotions is a sign of strength is fucking instrumental to growing as a community.
I will not conclude this with a lengthy paragraph on how we should all share and stop feeling regret about it. We all know it’s a long process. I hope my analysis of the term helped someone understand their feelings better. If not, at least now you can now confidently use the term ‘vulnerability hangover’ in casual conversation.