Recently my eight year old son has gone through some changes – one such change being that he no longer shies away from his vulnerability like he used to. This has taken some adjusting to on my part…
I first noticed the changes after he hurt himself at school one day and we needed to go to the hospital to have his injured knees looked at. Before bed he had a big cry about how one of his friends had laughed at him when he fell over and hurt himself and how later the nurse had been a bit rough with him when tending to his sore knees. He openly expressed his feelings and what had hurt during the day.
On another occasion, I spoke to him harshly and he simply cried. The way I spoke to him hurt and he let himself feel that.
Then a couple of days later, he popped in to see me at work after school just to say ‘hi’ as I work next door to where we live. He was not his usual jovial self. He felt a bit flat and I thought something was wrong. I left work early thinking he needed me, needed something or that something needed to be fixed. When I got home I found he was quite content clearing out his drawers, having some quiet time in his room.
I looked at him and realised he was perfectly ok, that he was actually feeling incredibly gorgeous. He didn’t feel the need to please anyone and was quite happy being as he was. Combined with the other experience when he hurt his knees, I realised that he was choosing to stay in his vulnerability – he was ok with crying, feeling sad or simply whatever it was he was feeling.
I realised my response in these situations – where he was simply expressing how he felt and allowing himself to feel what was there – was to want to fix it; to bring him back to his ‘normal.’ But why was this not normal? Perhaps I’d been sending the message that he had to be a certain way, that anything but his ‘normality’ rocked my boat and I wanted to fix it.
Do we have an issue with allowing the expression of such fragility? Is it possible that when another allows themselves to be, feel and stay in their vulnerability, it is a reflection that causes us to feel uneasy, needing to change the other’s behaviour as soon as possible? We want to ‘fix them’ so that we can feel comfortable again.
In some instances, ‘fixing’ may not be the way, but rather mocking and ridicule. When they cry, boys are called a pansy or a ‘girl’ – as if there is something wrong or lesser about being female. As girls and women, expressing from our vulnerability just seems to make everyone uncomfortable. Male or female, fragility and vulnerability are seen as a weakness and is something to be avoided.
In my case, I was essentially telling my son it was not ok to be vulnerable. This was a big lesson for me – both in how I am with my own vulnerability and that of others.
Since this realisation, I’ve been a lot more aware of my own impositions upon another’s expression and whether it is triggering something in me. Do I express my vulnerability? And do I let others express theirs?
Perhaps there is much that can come when we allow others to be in their fragility, tenderness and vulnerability. We can take inspiration from it and accept the reflection and what it offers. The observing of someone’s vulnerability is a beautiful beholding love, where walls of protection come down and we are gifted the opportunity to truly see what has been hidden.
By Anonymous, Northern NSW
Further Reading:
Building true relationships and positive parenting
Raising Boys – Are we Imposing on Them?
Real Men Don’t Cry
604 Comments
Yes, us wanting to fix another can be an imposition, and an arrogance; taking a moment to stop and see what we are feeling is a wise choice, ‘Perhaps I’d been sending the message that he had to be a certain way, that anything but his ‘normality’ rocked my boat and I wanted to fix it.’
He sounds like a very beautifull boy indeed ❤️ Great he is honouring himself and allowing himself to feel and express his feelings …. super cool.
I remember allowing myself to cry when I was feeling hurt. It definitely helped me to process what was in the way but very often, adults were confronting me trying to explain to me that I wasn’t a baby anymore and that would bring up so much frustration in me as they wouldn’t allow me just to be me. They would also compare me with other kids who maybe were not so expressive in this way.
Anonymous, I have found this article really helpful and this is a great question; ‘Do we have an issue with allowing the expression of such fragility?’ The other day I was feeling very sensitive and vulnerable and cried about something that had happened, it actually felt very lovely to allow myself to feel what had upset me and to feel fragile and not try and be a certain way for others, but to simply be raw and true.
So when we are connected and feel our vulnerability death becomes a thing of the past and we can actually look forward to passing over in the power of knowing we will incarnate in appreciation of what we have lived in our previous life. Then this appreciation of our lives is deepened as we carry with us at every age the ability to understand the responsibility we have to live and reflect our divine connection to what-ever age we are at. This is already happening in the Students of the Livingness and their young ones as they deepen in the responsibility to develop a True body that will reflect their essences.
This is true; ‘The observing of someone’s vulnerability is a beautiful beholding love, where walls of protection come down and we are gifted the opportunity to truly see what has been hidden.’ I observe this with people and with myself – that the crying and feeling vulnerable can be very lovely to see and feel, because we are no longer trying to be a certain way – there is an honesty and a rawness.
Yes, allowing ourselves or another to be raw and fragile is beautiful, ‘that the crying and feeling vulnerable can be very lovely to see and feel, because we are no longer trying to be a certain way – there is an honesty and a rawness.’
This is a beautiful blog on so many levels and is a great reminder to us all to honour not only our own vulnerability, but that of another’s too.