About the author
- Karolien Koolhof is a coach voor introverts and gifted individuals
- Author of the book Introvert Leadership
- Contact
Recently, a coachee said to me, “Isn’t vulnerability just a kind of weakness?” I smiled, because I recognized that feeling. For a long time, I thought vulnerability was something better kept hidden, something that didn’t belong in professional behavior or strong leadership.
But by now I know that’s not true. The moments when I’ve grown the most both as a person and as a coach weren’t the times when I had everything neatly under control, but the moments when I dared to be honest. About what touched me, what I found difficult, or what I felt sad about.
The American researcher Brené Brown defines vulnerability as uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. Not exactly a pleasant feeling—but, she says, it’s the source of courage, love, and creativity (Brown, 2012). Vulnerability isn’t the same as bursting into tears or sharing everything. It’s about honesty. About showing something real without any guarantee that it will be well received. And that takes courage.
After my father passed away, I received many cards wishing me “strength.” Kind and well-meant, but the word didn’t quite resonate. “Strength” sounds like: “Brace yourself, hold on.” But what I really needed was something different. Not strength, but softness. Not harder, but more open.
Being strong doesn’t mean not feeling. Being strong means feeling and not running away from it.
Psychological research shows that suppressed emotions don’t disappear; they build up in your body and mind. This is called expressive suppression. It raises your stress levels and reduces your sense of connection with others (Gross & Levenson, 1993; 1997).
By contrast, putting your feelings into words—through writing, talking, or reflecting—helps you gain clarity and resilience (Pennebaker & Smyth, 2016). That doesn’t mean you have to share every feeling, but it does mean acknowledging them.
Self-compassion also plays a crucial role. Kristin Neff (2003) shows that treating yourself with kindness helps you worry less and recover faster. Instead of judging yourself, you’re saying: this is allowed to be here.
Vulnerability doesn’t only show up in personal situations. I encounter it all the time at work. Many people have learned that emotions don’t belong there, that being professional means being rational, composed, and solution-oriented.
Yet, in practice, teams function better when there’s room for honesty. Amy Edmondson (1999) calls this psychological safety: the confidence that you won’t be punished for asking questions or admitting mistakes.
Vulnerability is the key to that. A leader who says, “I don’t know yet, but I’d like to explore it together,” inspires more trust than someone who pretends to have all the answers.
Vulnerability doesn’t mean sharing everything. Brown emphasizes that it’s about sharing with the right intention and the right people. Not to seek attention, but to create genuine connection.
That takes awareness: what do I share, with whom, and why? In my own process, it helped to have a small circle of people I could be honest with. That made things bearable.
I’ve noticed that vulnerability not only brings relief, but also creates space for others. When I share honestly that something affects me, it often invites others to do the same. In coaching conversations, this happens naturally: as soon as I show something human, the other person relaxes.
Vulnerability connects. Not because it’s beautiful, but because it’s real.
You can practice vulnerability, even though it never feels entirely comfortable. It starts with naming what’s truly there. Instead of saying “busy” or “fine,” try: “I feel tense” or “I’m moved.” Simply putting words to what you feel already opens the door to real contact. Then, resist the urge to fix things right away, stay with the discomfort for a moment and breathe through it. And finally, be kind. Ask yourself what you would say to a friend in the same situation, and say that to yourself.
Vulnerability is the bridge between knowing and feeling, between being alone and being together. In relationships, at work, and in leadership: everywhere people want to truly understand one another.
For me, vulnerability is the foundation of my work as a coach. Not because I want to share everything, but because I believe authenticity is the beginning of change.
You don’t have to be less strong to be more vulnerable. Being strong is daring to be vulnerable.