Raquel Nicolau Counselling

It’s early morning and the world is still quiet — that gentle pause before the day begins. I’m sitting with my coffee, thinking about vulnerability, how beautiful it is and how often it’s misunderstood. In my work, I see every day how powerful and transformative vulnerability can be, especially when we have learned to survive by hiding, numbing, or staying small. Our brains are wired for survival so it’ll always default to protection.

Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It isn’t oversharing. It isn’t collapsing into overwhelm. At its core, vulnerability is simply the willingness to be seen as we truly are — feelings, needs, limits, fears and all. It’s the ability to acknowledge our internal experience without pretending or performing. And for many people with trauma histories, this can feel terrifying, because vulnerability once meant danger. It meant exposure. It meant risk.

Healing asks us to slowly rewrite that story.

In therapeutic work, vulnerability becomes a practice of safety. It’s allowing ourselves to name what’s happening inside the body — my chest is tight, my hands are shaking, I feel scared right now — without judgment. It’s recognizing that asking for help is not a failure but a sign of regulation, connection, and self-awareness. It’s letting trusted people into our experience in small, manageable ways.

Vulnerability also creates the foundation for meaningful relationships. When we allow ourselves to be authentic, we create opportunities for others to meet us with empathy, care, and understanding. This is how nervous systems co-regulate. This is how shame loses power. This is how community forms.

For anyone navigating trauma, vulnerability doesn’t happen all at once. It emerges in slow, intentional steps: telling the truth about how you feel, setting a boundary, asking for support, choosing rest, or admitting that today is harder than you expected. These moments might seem small, but they are profound acts of self-care and courage.

As I sit here in the stillness of this morning, I’m reminded that healing isn’t about becoming invulnerable — it’s about building enough internal safety to let yourself be human again. Vulnerability is the doorway to connection, and connection is where healing takes root.

With vulnerability comes connection.

If you need a safe space to process feelings and be met with kindness and support, please don’t hesitate to reach out.