How often do you think about what you want?  What you really want?  Most of us are quick to start a list with large sums of money or even lofty ideas about true happiness and world peace, but it usually doesn’t take long before our list starts to shift to things we want to be:  “I want to be more loving.  I want to be less cynical.  I want to be more patient.  I want to have more faith.  I want to be more attractive.  I want to be a better example.”  In our minds, I think we all have an ideal, but probably unattainable, version of ourselves that we aspire to become.

A friend recently introduced me to the work of Brene Brown, a Houston-based researcher that studies women, vulnerability, and shame.  After talking with hundreds and hundreds of women, Brown has concluded that shame is a universal phenomenon.  We’re not talking about guilt here.  Guilt is feeling bad about something specific that we’ve done.  We’re talking about shame, which is feeling bad about something that we are. 

We all feel shame, but we don’t talk about it because we mistakenly believe it will make us feel more ashamed.  In reality, Brown has found that the most effective way of dealing with shame is to talk about it with people we trust.  Shame makes us feel like we aren’t worthy, and the best way to counteract those feelings is to put ourselves in situations that we’re accepted by people exactly as we are.  In other words, we feel better about who we are when we can talk honestly with other people who know us and love us anyway.  The remedy for shame is connection. 

The problem with this is that it’s counter-intuitive to most of us, myself included.  When I feel that I don’t measure up, my first tendency is to try to hide my perceived failings.  I do my best to convince everyone, including myself, that I really do measure up to the unreasonable standard that I’ve set for myself.  Is that crazy?  Yes.  Is that what I do?  Absolutely.

What does it take to change that?  Courage.

We commonly think of courage as a synonym for bravery.  Actually, the word courage comes from the Latin word for heart.  When it came into the English language, it dealt with acting, thinking, and speaking from your heart, not just with taking action in the face of danger. 

Courage is about learning to tell the whole story of who are with your whole heart, not only with your words, but with your actions and priorities and way of being in the world.  There are a hundred reasons not to do this, but most of them come back to one.  Living courageously requires us to be vulnerable. 

As leaders, we’re taught how to be strong and stand up for ourselves.  We’re taught how to advance our agendas to achieve our goals.  We’re taught how to act in order to be perceived as competent and charismatic.  I’m thankful for those lessons.  There’s a time and place for all of those skills.

But what I don’t think we’re always taught is how to be vulnerable.  We’re not taught often enough how to let the whole story of who we are… the parts we want everyone to know and the parts we’d rather stay hidden… influence who we are as leaders.

The truth of the matter is, our stories and experiences already are influencing our leadership.  When I walk into a conversation or meeting or crisis, I’m bringing my life along with me.  I need to learn to do a better job of acknowledging that in ways that are productive and helpful.  I need to learn how to be more honest about how who I am as a human being impacts who I am as a leader.  I think we all do.

I’m not saying that every committee meeting needs to be a group therapy session.  What I’m saying is that we need to be more comfortable in integrating the good and bad parts of all areas of our lives into our leadership strategies.  I’ve been trying to do this intentionally over the past few months. 

Here’s what I’m learning: when I’m brave enough to be honest about who I am, other people are more honest, too. 

As a leader, I am learning that the more open I am, the less suspicion people have about my motives.  Letting people really know me, and working to really know them, builds a foundation for productive conversations about what our common goals are and how we can reach them together.  I’m also able to use my successes and failures at work more productively in the rest of my life now that I’m being more mindful of the fact that no one is successful all the time.  And I can see the people around me–both in my personal life and my professional life–becoming more willing to live courageously, as well.

Now that I’m learning to be intentional about wasting less time and energy on measuring myself against impossible standards, I’m finding I have more to invest in the things that I really care about.  And, ultimately, isn’t that what we all want?

Susan Jones teaches courses on Poverty and Inequality and Women in Society at her alma mater, Judson College.