Coping With a Vulnerability Hangover: Help for the Christian

Have you ever found yourself in the midst of a vulnerability hangover? If you’re human, my guess is yes. But maybe you didn’t have words to label what you felt. One website defines it as “a confusing mix of fear and exhaustion.” Brené Brown says it happens when “we decide to get real about who we are, what we want, and how we express it.”

When we summon the courage to share about a sensitive topic or reveal a deep need, we may feel as though we’re holding our breath.

What will happen next?

Will my words be well-received?

Should I have opened my mouth at all?

In that in-between state, we’re uncertain, doubtful, and maybe regretful. Left there for too long and we begin to feel drained, not knowing how to cope with questions and fears.

When I’ve found myself in a vulnerability hangover situation, I’ve longed to be restored to a mental equilibrium—a place where God’s peace rules my heart and replenishes my thoughts with truth.

How do we find our way back there?

“In a vulnerability hangover situation, I’ve longed to be restored to a mental equilibrium—a place where God’s peace rules my heart and replenishes my thoughts with truth. How do we find our way back there?” #vulnerable Click To Tweet

I Hope I Didn’t

One of the first signs of entering vulnerability hangover territory is thinking or saying, “I hope I didn’t…”

“…sound too needy.”

“…reveal too much information.”

“…come across as unlikeable or scattered.”

“…talk too much.”

These last words were spoken by a friend as we left a women’s Bible study one summer night years ago.

We walked out the door chatting about our week. As we approached our cars, she stopped and said, “I hope I didn’t talk too much tonight.”

She was a new mom to a three-month-old baby, working a stressful full-time job, and feeling crushed by the details of life. She felt overwhelmed, and she hadn’t hesitated to let our women’s group know.

Everyone in the room had offered words of sympathy, encouragement, and practical tidbits of advice when appropriate. And yet. My friend walked out the door wondering if she had done the right thing to reveal so much of her weary heart.

Vulnerability as It Was Intended

Adam and Eve were as vulnerable as it gets. Without hurt or shame, the only possible outcome of their vulnerability was intimacy—with the Father and with one another.

Their physical vulnerability—having no recognized need for clothing—mirrored their emotional, mental, and spiritual capacity for vulnerability.

As soon as sin entered the world, vulnerability scattered from the scene. Physically, they covered their bodies. Mentally, they retreated as evidenced by hiding from God’s presence. And spiritually, sin disconnected their once-perfect intimacy with God.

At the onset of sin, mankind changed, but God did not. God remained faithful when we were faithless. At our worst, we have the capacity for maliciousness and destruction, and at our best, we still make mistakes and easily prioritize ourselves over others. So it makes sense to exercise caution when sharing and revealing sensitive parts of our lives. The good news is that we find no trace of danger in God. He welcomes our vulnerability with open arms—forgiving, healing, and working.

The thing is, though, that God often works through his people. Even though we are still sinful, God’s children are tools at his disposal building his kingdom and announcing his glory.

We walk in vulnerability with our sisters and brothers in Christ seeing the ever-present risk of pain but letting God’s purposes overshadow the fear of that possibility because “we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28 ESV).

“We walk in vulnerability with our sisters and brothers in Christ seeing the ever-present risk of pain but letting God’s purposes overshadow the fear of that possibility because we know God works all things for our good.” #vulnerability Click To Tweet

Taking a Risk to Be Known

The first step to finding our footing on God’s path of peace is recognizing the internal tug-of-war happening between our cultural thoughts and our spiritual truth.

Somewhere in us, we instinctively know the value of setting aside the façade, airing out our hearts, and letting people see our true selves. I believe this exposure of letting ourselves be known comes naturally for all of us at first.

Sometimes, the guards come down and instead of care and affirmation, we receive a blow or a wound. It sends a communication to the brain that exposing vulnerability is not a wise choice worth repeating. The wounds scab over. Maybe they leave a scar. Those experiences weigh into our next choice when we have an opportunity to take a risk with our hearts.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, we have experiences of risk traded for reward. Because wounds have a way of lingering longer than rewards, we need to consciously remind ourselves of the value and beauty of knowing and letting ourselves be known by others.

Looking at Scripture, we see God’s design for community, not isolation and authenticity, not secrecy.

Armed for (Tug-of) War

When the tug-of-war commences with culture on one side and Scripture on the other, will we find ourselves prepared for the battle? Cultural thoughts tug on one end of the rope with taunts like:

“You should have it all together.”

“Hurt is the only thing that results from vulnerability.”

“You shouldn’t need other people; only rely on yourself.”

We need to throw our weight behind the truth of Scripture pulling on the other end of the rope. Here are two to remember:

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

Hebrews 10:24-25 ESV

For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.

Romans 12:4-5 ESV

Preach to Yourself

After we claim Scripture and recognize God’s good plan for the Church and our togetherness, we may find we’re taking mental upward steps out of the ditch of that vulnerability hangover. If you need a final boost to help you out of its depths, cling to this:

I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.

Job 42:2 ESV

Maybe you shared your faith at work and now you fear losing your job.

Perhaps you opened up about your hard marriage to a room of women only to be met with a wall of silence.

Maybe you revealed a struggle with sin and then anxiously wondered if you ruined any chance of being used by God in ministry.

When we remember God is in control of all, we find that the power we once believed to be in the hands of our boss, our friends, or our family doesn’t belong to them at all. God’s purposes cannot be thwarted.

A Final Story

A month ago I walked into my church for the first time since the start of the pandemic. A group of women was meeting to discuss fall Bible study groups and how we can best lead them during this strange season of life.

Unexpected sadness and gratitude bubbled up inside me as I realized how much I’ve missed the gathering of this community during the last six months.

Those emotions mixed with something else—a long-held desire for someone to disciple and mentor me—and words spilled out of my mouth as I sat in a circle with these women (some of whom I’ve never met before). I posed questions to the group about how to lead a community of women when I myself don’t feel led or poured into by other women. The group offered kind words and encouragement, but at the close of the meeting, I felt that “confusing mix of fear and exhaustion.”

As I prepared to leave, a woman older than myself approached, gave me her card and offered to meet with me. Relief and joy flooded me as I drove home clutching her card in my hand. We’re now embarking on a discipleship journey together, and I see God’s fingerprints all over the relationship.

God rewarded a risk in vulnerability with great riches. He sees and meets our needs although sometimes it feels scary to reach out and take hold of his good gifts.

When have you experienced a “vulnerability hangover”? How has God guided you back to his path of peace? I’d love to hear in the comments!