A Lesson in Vulnerability

A prostate exam is a weird experience for a teachable moment.

My yearly physical was yesterday. For my least favorite part of the physical, the doctor got to stick his finger up my bunghole for the prostate exam. Comedians have been discussing these exams for years, so I won’t try to be witty in referring to this particular procedure.

I was thinking about getting into it from a different angle. Pun intended. Many thoughts ran through my mind during the exam. The biggest one was the doctor’s pre-prostate-poke suggestion, “You may feel like you need to pee.”

The rectal research seemed like it took an eternity, and the doctor was a comprehensive student. It was more of an oral exam because he felt the need to call out to me everything he was doing and finding.

“I see the hemorrhoid we were just talking about; (going in a little further) everything feels good, (going deeper), there’s the prostate!”

I lost track of all time and space at that point. The exam was over before I realized it. The doctor was handing me a box of kleenex, “You may feel like you want to wipe the area before you get dressed.” I did want to wipe that area before I got dressed.

I also wanted to wipe my memory of the last 30 seconds!

My doctor is great. He asks me questions and listens to me. Whether I see him once a year for a check-up or see him for another reason, he makes me feel like I’m his only patient. He is never rushed and never dismisses any of my questions for him.

I always listen to him but don’t always take his advice. “Are you getting any exercise?” “No.” “Are you eating healthy foods?” “No.” “The numbers from your bloodwork are great!” “That’s because the medicines are doing their job, Doctor.”

He spent five minutes talking to me before his anal assessment. He wanted me to know that doctors do so many of these they don’t even think about it. He was trying to de-personalize something that seems and feels very personal. I thought about how vulnerable I was during this exam.

I thought about Brené Brown’s book, “Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead.” One of the first points she makes in her book is vulnerability is not a weakness. It is an act of courage.

I struggle with my self-worth, which is why I have to work on not being a people-pleaser continually. Vulnerability is difficult for me because I do not want anyone to see who I am. If others see the real me, they may not like me. I do lack the courage to be myself and be open and honest with others.

I’m so “messed up” that it took the doctor putting his finger “where the sun doesn’t shine” to remind me what it means to be vulnerable. Yes, I’ve had these types of exams before, and no, they have never affected me as this one did.

I have been vulnerable in specific settings. Years ago, my wife, son, and I took part in a week of family therapy. It was one of the most challenging weeks of my life, yet one of the most rewarding weeks. I shared some of my deepest, darkest secrets with them (and other families I didn’t know).

I had forgotten the lessons I learned that week, and God thought I needed a reminder. He got my attention yesterday during my prostate exam.

Our comfort is not as crucial as vulnerability

I was not comfortable standing there bent over the exam table. Yet my willingness to be vulnerable was for my good and for my health.

Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness. — Brené Brown

I need to be willing to be uncomfortable to be vulnerable in sharing my life with others. Not only will I benefit from that, but others will be encouraged as well. The point of encouraging others is to “give them courage.”

True belonging comes with vulnerability

When others get to know the real us and choose not to like us, that is their choice. My loved ones know the real me and still choose to love me (and like me).

Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world. — Brené Brown

I don’t need to be worried about others’ acceptance if I’m my true self. I will not need to “work” to prove myself to them or do anything else. They may accept me or not. That’s their choice and takes the pressure off of me.

Vulnerability leads to a happier life

All of us want the best for ourselves. We want to be happy. We want to belong and find our place in this world. Being open and authentic before others paves the way for that happiness.

Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path. — Brené Brown

Final thoughts

I have had seasons in my life where I felt like something was missing. Most of those times are followed by an “AHA” moment (orchestrated by God) to bring me to my senses. Yesterday, God used my prostate exam to remind me that I’m not as vulnerable as I need to be.

I’ve not been as vulnerable around my family, friends, and coworkers. I need to be more courageous and share my authentic self with others (including my hurts, habits, and hang-ups). My first step in doing this was sharing this story with you.

Did I want to share this very personal experience with you? No. Yet, as Brené recommends, I want greater clarity in my purpose and a deeper and more meaningful spiritual life. How about you?