Risk the vulnerability hangover. You will survive it.
We’ve all been there: We shared from the depths of our souls. Our fears. Our worries. Our hopes. Our dreams.
In the sharing, you were effusive, euphoric, unbridled, and even — dare I say it? — emotional. Because, I mean, it felt so good in that moment.
And then you felt the surge of heat in your cheeks. The room started to spin and you had to make a hasty retreat from the conversation. Or worse... you left feeling euphoric, only to wake up in a puddle of your insecurities the next day.
"Oh hell! Why did I share that?” “What was I thinking?” And, worse, “What must THEY be thinking now about ME?”
You think you said too much.
You think you were too much.
You, my friend, are eyeballs deep into what has been called the “vulnerability hangover.”
[A term coined by the Queen Bee of Vulnerability, Dr. Brené Brown.]
Friend? I’ve totally been there.
As a chronic hugger of strangers, the first one to say I love you, an over-sharer by nature, and a woman living inside a desire to live so fully that most of her filters have been removed, I get it.
Brown posits that if you don’t feel any vulnerability hangover, then maybe you didn’t go far enough.
If we’re going to use vulnerability hangovers as a metric of courage, here’s a super quick survival guide.
First of all, you will survive this.
You will absolutely survive your vulnerability hangover. Anyone who has stepped out and risked sharing what was true has experienced this and (you guessed it) survived.
Next, hydrate.
Simple. Just hydrate. No tricks. Just drink water.
(You aren’t drinking enough, you know.)
Third, compassion-ate
As in, fire compassion beams on yourself. Be kind. Be gentle.
You shared because you had a full tank of thoughts and feelings and sadness and joy and despair and whatever else you had and were looking to connect with someone. Maybe with several someones. You needed that. We all need that. So beating yourself up is counter-productive.
Find the same compassion for yourself that you would give a sweet little girl who told her crush that their eyes were nice and now feels awash in shame for her confession.
Last, calibrate
Recognize that the impulse beneath the sharing was connection (it was, trust me). Where else can you get this need met in a way that will not send you to bed dizzy and wanting to hide because you are flushed with hot panic? What’s another way forward? Who can you surround yourself with?
Because what I worry about is this: if you endure one too many vulnerability hangovers, you just may stop showing up.
And, honey? We cannot have that.
Listen. We are living in a messed up time.
It is time to say what needs to be said. Now more than ever.
We can’t have you in bed not saying what needs to be said because you are afraid of the repercussions of a vulnerability hangover.
I’m scared. I know you are too.
Above all:
Please don’t apologize for feeling the depths of your experience.
Don’t apologize for expressing the depths of your experience.
And don’t stop sharing what needs to be shared.
It’s time for humanity. Not immunity. And certainly not silence.
I repeat: we’ve got work to do.
But what do you do when you’re not certain how to do that work?
What do you do when you’ve drunk your water and felt deep into that self-compassion (and possibly even read Dr. Brown’s books) — but you’re not sure how to calibrate and realign or decide on your next move?
What do you do when you’re pre- hangover — but you’re procrastinating speaking up because you dread the crash that will follow?
When you know you have things to say, a bigger role to fill, a bigger impact to make — but you can’t quite figure out how to do the next right thing to get there.
That’s where I come in.
Over the years of studying and working with the Imposter Complex, I’ve developed a toolbox of strategies that can help guide you through the squidgy places (the vulnerability hangovers, the habits of procrastination or diminishment or comparison) to help you uncover and create Your Impeccable Impact.
And if you’re wondering how you will know when you’re ready to make such a move?
Searching for how to survive your vulnerability hangover tells me you’re making bold moves (or you wouldn’t be dealing with a hangover in the first place!). And if you’ve read this far, that tells me you’re considering a few more.
That’s thrilling stuff. Let’s talk about it and find out if I can support you on your journey to get where you want to go.
*A note about coaching. With ANYONE.
I’m always amazed when a new client apologizes for being emotional in a session. Worrying about what I’ll think. It’s chronic — worrying about how we’ll react to each other.
People… I’m a professional.
THIS is what I do. This is what ALL coaches do. All that deep-listening and ideation and strategy and compassion are God-given gifts that I nurture and tend to. No doubt. SELF-MANAGEMENT is the skill I paid tens of thousands of dollars for and spent thousands of hours mastering.
So bring it. Bring the mess. Bring the tears. Bring what you think is a shit show.
I’ve got it all. I’ve got you. That’s my job. That’s ALL coaches' jobs.
We’ll find your way forward. Because we are going to need your voice, at top level. We’re going to need your arms, your heart, your soul and all that you have got if we’re going to turn this thing around.
Check out my free training on the 5 ICONIC Shifts Leaders Use to Overcome the Imposter Complex and Grow their Income and their Impact
Where I pull back the curtain on five shifts to start raising voices, rates, and hands all while being the kind, congruent, and authentic leader I know you to be.