The Power of Vulnerability
When I was in junior high Mr. Goforth was assigned as my counselor. At first, he guided me towards the classes I needed to take, but he eventually became an important mentor to me as I navigated some of the most difficult experiences of my life. He seemed to see something in me that other people could not see. I came to trust that his primary goal in our relationship was to help me to value myself.
On one occasion, I remember Mr. Goforth saw me in the hall and noticed I was not doing well. He invited me into his office and asked me how I was doing. I began to sob, and I emptied my burdens on him. I was having a lot of conflict at home, and I had even run away on a couple of occasions. My grades were declining. The girl I was dating broke up with me and got together with someone else the next day. My problems were pretty normal, but I was not coping very well. I felt alone.
Mr. Goforth was able to listen and ask questions in a way that helped me to reconnect with myself. In time, my grades began to improve, the conflicts I was having with my parents evened out, and the pain of getting replaced became manageable. My connection with Mr. Goforth helped me to navigate, adjust, and adapt. I did not know it at the time, but my relationship with Mr. Goforth would play an important role in my journey.
I do not recall how many times I have reconnected with Mr. Goforth over the past 26 years, but it was not more than a few brief conversations. It has been about 13 years since I have had any contact with him. In the time since I graduated from junior high I have often reflected on my interactions with Mr. Goforth and the role they played on my ability to value myself.
In time, I pursued a master of social work degree and went to work in a public child protection system where I primarily worked with adolescents in long-term foster care. In this capacity I often found myself attempting to support the youths I was responsible for in the ways Mr. Goforth had supported me. I wanted the adolescents that I worked with to envision a future where they transcended the distress and confusion of the foster care system. I hoped I could play a role in helping them to value themselves. This body of work led me to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker.
I currently work as a therapist for Roubicek and Thacker Counseling in Fresno, California. I’m often surprised that clients who make an appointment to begin therapy rarely recognize their behavior as courageous, even though they are demonstrating tremendous courage. I did not feel courageous when I was vulnerable with Mr. Goforth, but with distance I can now see the role I played in this interaction. If I had not allowed Mr. Goforth to support me, I would not have experienced the recovery and growth that I did. Mr. Goforth was important, but so was I.
I am one of the 44,000,000 people who have watched Brene Brown’s TED Talk, “The Power of Vulnerability.” In truth, I have watched that talk at least a dozen times. I am among the 12,000,000 who watched her second TED Talk “Listening to Shame.” I have watched her Netflix special, “The Call to Courage.” I have read two of her books “The Gifts of Imperfection” and “Braving the Wilderness.” I often encourage the people I meet with to read her work or watch her talks. Her work on shame and vulnerability tracks perfectly with my journey with and without Mr. Goforth.
If you want to do something radical that can dramatically improve your ability to trust yourself and see your value, I would encourage you to do as Brown urges her listeners and readers to do, “lean into the discomfort.” Vulnerability is an essential strength that Mr. Goforth demonstrated those many years ago when he reached out to me in my moment of difficulty. Vulnerability was also the key characteristic that allowed me to gain so much from our interaction.
To those readers who have made it to the end of this post, I encourage you to call upon your courage to go forth and find someone who can become your Mr. Goforth.