Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead

People want to be brave and “dare greatly,” but our culture has a scarcity mindset that makes people afraid of losing. Chapter 1 opens with an anecdote of Brown giving a talk and slipping into a Texas colloquialism, “You can’t swing a cat without hitting a narcissist” (2) in response to an audience question about why children these days are so narcissistic. Brown explains that narcissism is an overused concept. Studies show that narcissism is on the rise, but Brown questions this premise. Other people being narcissists is a convenient answer that allows us to blame other people for the problems in our world. The first response people have is to cut narcissists down to size, to say they aren’t that special. However, this is not the correct strategy. The qualities of narcissism—grandiosity, a need for admiration, a lack of empathy—are underpinned by shame. Telling people that they aren’t that special does not fix narcissism. Shame causes narcissistic behaviors; it doesn’t cure them.

Brown proposes we look at narcissism through a lens of vulnerability. When she does this, Brown concludes: “I see the shame-based fear of being ordinary. I see the fear of never feeling extraordinary enough to be noticed, to be loveable, to belong, or to cultivate a sense of purpose” (6). People struggle to believe that they are enough, and narcissism is the result of this shame and sense of inadequacy. Brown asks three questions:

1. What are the messages and expectations that define our culture, and how does culture influence our behaviors?
2. How are our struggles and behaviors related to protecting ourselves?
3. How are our behaviors, thoughts, and emotions related to vulnerability and the need for a strong sense of worthiness? (7)

Brown concludes that we are not in an epidemic of narcissistic personality disorder. There is, however, a larger cultural anxiety that underpins this series of behaviors. The fear of being ordinary is an important part of this anxiety, but it also goes deeper. The root cause is a culture of scarcity. Scarcity is a problem of never enough. For many people, this surfaces as not being good, perfect, thin, powerful, successful, smart, certain, safe, or extraordinary enough. We feel inadequate and fixate on what we don’t have rather than celebrating what we do. This is a self-defeating way of living. Instead, we must embrace wholeheartedness. Wholeheartedness requires embracing vulnerability and knowing that we are worthy. Courage is about showing up and letting ourselves be seen in our vulnerability.

Chapter 2 outlines four key myths about vulnerability. First, the most common misconception about vulnerability is that it is a form of weakness. Vulnerability requires courage and daring. Because people associate vulnerability with weakness, there is a tendency to be critical of people who embrace vulnerability. Vulnerability is neither good nor bad, but rather, it is at the heart of all emotions, “to feel is to be vulnerable” (17). We cannot find purpose or meaning without being vulnerable. Many people associate vulnerability with dark emotions like fear, shame, grief, sadness, and disappointment that we don’t like to talk about, even as they shape our lives. This association is incorrect. Vulnerability is the root of positive emotions like love, belonging, creativity, joy, empathy, and courage. If we want more authentic, meaningful lives, vulnerability is where we must begin.

Vulnerability is “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure” (29). Brown then turns to love. Love requires vulnerability because it is uncertain and risky. Creativity also requires vulnerability, making art or ideas and sharing it with the world is risky. We have “confused feeling with failing and emotions with liabilities” (19). However, to reclaim our passion and purpose, we have to become comfortable with our vulnerability and the emotions that come with it. Brown lists a series of responses to a survey on what vulnerability means to people as well as a list of how vulnerability feels. The responses range from everyday concerns like asking for help, saying no, or initiating sex as well as more specific situations, like calling a friend whose child died, waiting for biopsy results, or exercising in public. The powerful responses show how much courage true vulnerability requires.

The second myth is the belief that “I don’t do vulnerability” (27). This explanation often accompanies considerations of career choice or gender. However, it is not possible to opt out of the risk and uncertainty of life. Myth number three is that vulnerability is oversharing. Brown argues that vulnerability is about mutually respected boundaries and trust, which is not the same thing as oversharing or violating other people’s boundaries in our desire to be vulnerable. If we open up to people about our deepest fears as soon as we meet them, we are not being vulnerable, but rather displaying attention-seeking behavior, woundedness, or attention seeking. Trust is central to vulnerability. Trust is built slowly over time. One of the most corrosive, but common, betrayals is disengagement. When people stop caring and investing in the relationship, trust begins to erode. The final myth is that we can go it alone. Individualism is valued in our culture, but we cannot be vulnerable alone. One of the bravest things we can do is ask for help.

Shame is powerful because we are afraid to name it. Shame withers when it comes into the open. Brown recounts a conversation she has with a stranger who attends a talk she gives on shame. He thanks her for the talk and tells her that he didn’t want to come because of the theme, but he attended with his wife. He says she reminds him of Snape, a character from Harry Potter who seems dark but is actually a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. They connect over the freeing nature of coming to terms with shame, and, teary-eyed, they hug. To confront the “dark arts” of shame, we need to let go of what people might think about us and embrace vulnerability and courage.

People tie their self-worth to what they produce and how the world receives it. Brown argues that we cannot let people external to us determine our self-worth. Wanting people to admire and respect your work is different than tying your self-worth to your work. You cannot be reduced down to the painting, symphony, article, or pitch. If we remove self-worth from the situation, we are more willing to be brave and share our talents. Shame-resilient cultures nurtures creative exploration. Daring greatly requires worthiness. Shame sends signals to our minds like gremlins who tell us we are not good enough, that we are not worthy. Asking what the “gremlins” of self-doubt are saying to you can be an effective strategy of neutralizing their power. Naming the problem helps bring awareness.

Shame is often confused with guilt, embarrassment, and humiliation. These words imply different things, however, as shame is rooted in a sense that we are unworthy. Shame is a common but difficult emotion that makes us feel like we are flawed and unworthy of love. This limiting belief makes it harder for us to address the key issues. Men and women both experience shame. Women experience shame connected to their appearance, age, and weight as well as motherhood. Women spend their lives trying to be smaller, which limits their accomplishments in the world. In contrast, men experience shame as failure. They are afraid of being weak. If we share our experience with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame withers. It cannot survive. Empathy is “a ladder out of the shame hole” (65). Brown recounts a shameful experience she had where she accidently replied to an email with an angry response when she had actually meant to forward it. She reached out to a friend, processed her shame, and then owned up to her mistake. The solution to shame is being wholehearted.