Isolation is far more dangerous than vulnerability

Since I was a little boy, I’ve been drawn to leadership. People who were able to hold the attention of a crowd, I studied. People who were able to inspire, I watched with great interest. People who had the ability to say something that those listening felt compelled to write down so they could re-read it, I held in such high esteem. Now, all of this sounds good and makes for a great flash back scene in a movie that tells the story of how a great leader came to be.

The part that you rarely see portrayed, however, is the humanity of that leader, that public figure. We don’t like to think of our heroes as human. We put them on a pedestal and expect them to be better but better than what? A gifting or extraordinary talent does not preclude one single person on the planet from battling the insecurities and challenges that come with being alive. One of the diseases that plagues not only leaders and public figures, but people in everyday life is the pull of isolation.

You’re struggling with something, anything. Many personality types will not share it with anyone. They slap the smile on and go about their day and spit out routine rhetoric and responses like: “I’m good! How are you?” just to avoid getting into what is really going on inside. Social media is FILLED with highlight reels of life that are fabricated images, filled with filters, artificial lighting, and only ever showing the world what we want them to see but hardly what is going on behind the scenes.

So, why do we stay silent? Why do we keep it bottled up inside? Why have we become a society of walking volcanoes? For one, a dangerous and short sided mentality has been allowed to permeate our thinking that leads us to believe that vulnerability and transparency are weaknesses. Boys at a young age are told, “Buck up! Man up! Don’t you be a baby!” while young ladies are led to believe that they’re too emotional and no one wants to see and hear all that and that they need to zip it up. So, what we have are adults who know how to smile for Instagram, live out the façade, all while screaming on the inside and not allowing anyone to see us for who we really are.

Loneliness is actually causing a health epidemic and it is not just tied to depression, anxiety, suicide (which are at all-time highs); but cardiovascular issues, sleep deprivation, and premature deaths are all being connected to loneliness. No matter how annoying people may be, we were designed for community. Isolation is unnatural and goes against our design.

Isolation is the worst possible counselor. Why? The only voice we are hearing when we isolate ourselves is our own and 99% of the time, that voice is lying. I know from firsthand experience how dangerous isolation is when facing emotional and mental battles.

Shame says it’s better to look all right than to be all right and to value our image over our mental, emotional, and spiritual health. How many suffer in silence for fear of what others may think without realizing that the very people they’re trying to impress are struggling with their own issues? In this social media driven world we now live in - where we live for likes but long for love - and derive our self-worth from the opinion of strangers ... I challenge us to fight for real connection in an age of algorithms, filters, and only our best angles.

In admitting that you don’t feel strong, you show true strength. In being openly vulnerable, you show true courage. The truth about weakness is this: if you own it, you can surpass it but if you hide it, it owns you. Projecting the perfect life is a heavier burden than most any truth. 

You can hold your breath and pretend you’re perfect, shoving those fears back into a quiet corner or you can be vulnerable and brave enough to ignore the handful of people who will mock your vulnerability because they are terrified of their own. You get to choose each day. Pretending you’ve got it all together is easy but empty. Admitting you don’t is frightening but fulfilling. The danger of isolation is much greater than the risk of vulnerability. You don’t inspire others with allusions of perfection. You inspire by how you deal with your imperfections.