Brené Brown: 'People are sick of being afraid all the time'

Brene Brown: Her Ted talk on vulnerability has been watched by more than six million people worldwide. Photograph: Felix Sanchez

"You can't give children what you don't have yourself," says Brene Brown. "No matter how much importance you place on it." For instance, you can't raise children to be more resilient to shame than you are yourself. "I can encourage my daughter to love her body," she says, "but what really matters are the observations she makes about my relationship with my own body. Damn it. So the question isn't so much, 'Are you parenting the right way?' as it is, 'Are you the adult you want your child to grow up to be?'"

Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Leadby Brene Brown Tell us what you think: Star-rate and review this book

Brown, a Texan academic turned bestselling author, wife, daughter, sister and mother of two, came to prominence after recording a Ted talk in which she argued that to live a full life requires courage – and showing courage means doing things that make you feel vulnerable. It quickly became one of the most successful Ted talks of all time: more than 10 million people have seen it online and shared her message that we should stop worrying about being perfect, accept ourselves as we are, and engage meaningfully with one another.

To a cynical British ear, this may sound embarrassingly new age, but Brown's Ted talk has been embraced by the American military and she's in huge demand as a speaker at global corporations. Neither is she a model of perfection: in a video call from her home in Houston, Brown tells me that she flips people off when she's driving and would instinctively rather punch somebody than make herself vulnerable. But her academic research showed that the shaming culture we live in makes it harder than ever to show courage and be vulnerable – and somebody had to speak out. "People are sick and tired of being afraid all the time. People want to be brave again. So the message is, do it! Get your courage on, but be clear that it won't be easy. It's going to feel like shit."

Researching her latest book, Brown carried out formal academic interviews with 1,280 people. "One of the most powerful experiences I had was asking middle-school children the difference between belonging and fitting in. They said, fitting in is when you want to be part of something and belonging is when people want you just as you are. I get to be me if I belong and I have to be like you to fit in. What was shocking was when they said, 'Miss, it's really hard not to belong at school, but nothing is as painful as not belonging at home.'"

Without meaning to, parents cause that pain when they allow children to sense the disappointment, embarrassment or indifference they feel towards them. That is something Brown believes we can all learn to minimise, by fighting against the shaming culture we inhabit and teaching children resilience.

We live in a culture with a strong sense of scarcity. "We wake up in the morning and we say, 'I didn't get enough sleep.' And we hit the pillow saying, 'I didn't get enough done.'" We're never thin enough, extraordinary enough or good enough – until we decide that we are. "For me," says Brown, "the opposite of scarcity is not abundance. It's enough. I'm enough. My kids are enough."

If we really believe this, we stop trying to fix everything for them. "If one of my kids is struggling, it feels excruciating to let them go to school and figure it out for themselves. Hope is a function of struggle. People with the highest hopefulness have the knowledge that they can move through adversity. When we take adversity from our children, we diminish their capacity for hope.

"It's tough to step back. I would much rather intervene and fix things myself. If they're struggling with a teacher, I can whip out an email and it's pretty impressive and it takes five minutes. But to sit down and talk to Ellen and let her write the email and proof it with her and talk about how to structure it – that is going to take 45?minutes."

When time itself feels scarce, the temptation is to take the easy, quick option. But Brown describes these everyday opportunities for loving intervention as Sliding Doors moments (after the film) – opportunities we either seize or deliberately avoid. We can avoid them occasionally, but do it too often and relationships suffer, not just between parent and child but between couples.

"If you are always choosing to turn away, then trust erodes in a relationship – very gradually, very slowly. When the people we love stop paying attention, trust begins to slip away and hurt starts seeping in. Disengagement triggers shame and our greatest fears – the fears of being abandoned, unworthy and unloveable. What can make this covert betrayal so?much more dangerous than?something like an affair is that we can't point to the source of our pain – there's no event, no obvious evidence of brokenness."

To seize every opportunity to show loving commitment would be shattering, wouldn't it? Who, really, has the time? And what if the other person doesn't let you even try? One of Brown's most appealing qualities is that she openly admits to failing frequently at what she encourages others to do – but keeps trying anyway.

Showing courage, in the name of meaningful relationships, is hard work. "And we don't do it perfectly," Brown says. "When we don't, we apologise and make amends." People who don't have the capacity to apologise, she contends, are normally people who never saw their parents apologise, and grew up in an environment that relied on shame rather than guilt. In guilt, we feel that we have done something bad. With shame, we feel we are bad. "Guilt is just as powerful, but its influence is positive, while shame's is destructive. Shame erodes our courage and fuels disengagement."

Happily, her husband Steve, a paediatrician, understands her work and they usually support each other. But arguments are inevitable. "We disagree in front of the children, but a lot of times we will say, 'Your dad and I need to talk to each other right now', and ask for some space. We are comfortable to say we are having difficulty."

Does that worry the children?

"I asked Ellen that the other day, when [Steve and I] were having a little cold war, and she said, 'No, I know you will use your words to work it out.' In fact, I think it can be scary for people who never see their parents argue."

When her daughter was much younger, Brown found herself renegotiating family culture with her own father. "Ellen was three or four. We were in my dad's house and I said 'It's time to turn off the TV', and she said she didn't want to. And my dad bristled. I was not raised like that! From him, I'd have got a look that might mean a spanking. But I said to her, 'I understand you want to watch Dora the Explorer', and so on, and my dad said, 'Dammit, what are you raising, a hostage negotiator?' But the next day I went to see my dad again and I saw him trying to do it. He said to her, 'You have a couple of choices …

"So family culture is not just about parents. It's also grandparents. They matter hugely. We have to talk with them and ask them to avoid saying things like 'shame on you', but without that being received as a criticism of how we were raised ourselves. I have a picture of my grandmother when she was heavily pregnant, with a cigarette and an ashtray on her belly. I don't blame her, any more than I blame my parents for not explaining the difference between shame and guilt."

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I want to leave my abusive husband, but I'm too afraid

"Millions of women have suffered in the same way, made their escape and continued to lead a life free from threat." Photo: Dani Rodriguez/Alamy

The dilemmaI am 28 years old and have been with my husband for six years, married for two. I want to leave it because there's no reason to stay. It does not work. I get unemployment and we live with my sister. I have three children who are not his and he does not seem to understand that I don't want him screaming my kids all the time. He cheated on me and abused me physically. It is not more, but when he gets upset, as I can tell he still has this side violent which is one reason why I'm afraid to leave. What can I do?

Mariella answersLet certainly, but gives plans carefully; Normally, I am not in favour of the sneakiness, but your letter leaves me little illusions and little faith in your husband to redeem qualities. If he is physically in danger you and let alone actually harming you, then you must be in contact with social services. It is called physical abuse and unlike much of the third world where smacking your wife is the husband of divine right, we have laws and agencies of protection to ensure that the weakest and most vulnerable must not live in fear.

Ministry of the Interior has recently published an updated plan of action for the elimination of violence against women and children and expanded the definition of domestic violence to publicize the problems of young people and integrate the concept of coercive control as a form of abuse. In other words, you do not to be black and blue around to ask for help. Instead, taking control of your destiny and ensure the safety of your children is much better while emotions are not at their increased and the danger this man pose for you and your family to the extreme.

Refuge is a fantastic organization that provides advice and practical help to those who are hostage to violence from a partner. Help of the women is a charitable organization national domestic violence dedicated to helping children and vulnerable women. There is also the National Violence helpline domestic freephone on 0808 2000 247.

Too many women are waiting until they are crawling on their hands and knees to ask for help, assuming wrongly the severity of their case is judged by regularity and the end of violence. You do not want your first call to be a hospital rather than a helpline.

We pay taxes so that our humanist values are reflected in the services that put us at the disposal of all members of our society, by ensuring that those who need support, as you and your children have access to a system which guarantees equality of rights and protection for all. In this case it is certainly your right and your duty as a mother to access this help.

I know that with three young children, your hands are full, but you should not let this explosive situation to continue. We are all making mistakes in love, but such errors can be corrected. Now that you have identified the inadequacies of this man and his capacity for violence, you need to maintain the momentum. Talking to social services, talk to the Refuge, enlist the help of your sister and plot your escape.

A man who is abusive, aggressive kids and good for anything, it is simply not an option for a mother of three children. If you take your own safety and security seriously is your business, but your kids have the right to be protected and not live twilight lives in the shadow of your fear. I appreciate the enormous obstacles loom in your current situation and how far that any possibility of release of this dysfunctional partnership must appear, but you should take heart from the example of millions of women who have suffered in the same way, made their escape and continued to lead a happy and fulfilling life free of threat.

According to figures of the Fawcett Society, one woman in three in this world will be the victims of domestic violence at some point in their lives. The only positive aspect is that this confirms that you are far from alone.

You can change your life and you've already made your first step. You have all chances of a new existence, free of abuse. It is no time to try to go it alone. In your case the back up of qualified professionals will be essential, not only for tips, but also to help allay your justified apprehension. Once you're standing your own two feet, you'll be surprised how easy it is, you will find the direction that you need to start walking.

If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk. Follow Mariella on Twitter @mariellaf1

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Should You Be Afraid Of Aging?

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"Aging... is not a paramount male fear. But being seen as a loser is." 

The relationship between men’s sites like this one, and women’s sites like Jezebel or XOJane, is somewhat less than ideal. That’s because they think we are enormous douches.

From our perspective, though, we are simply speaking the way that men speak to each other in person, online. That’s the mandate that informs everything that we do. The missions of sites like AskMen and sites like Jezebel are near-identical; it’s just that men (and not just “the bad sort of men,” but men in general) and women are not.

There is no shortage of men’s sites willing to call out their female counterparts as harshly as they do us. We are sure that a lot of our readers are aware, for instance, of names like “Chateau Heartiste” or “RooshV.” As satisfying as this can be, though, it doesn’t do anything for the culture as a whole.

For a million reasons relating to fragmentation of media ownership, political expediency and sheer human biliousness, we are constantly being manipulated into fiercely oppositional camps: liberals vs. conservatives, red vs. blue, urban vs. rural. There is a culture war going on, or being made to go on, and it is killing our ability to speak to each other.

This, in part, is why we’re ignoring the epiphenomena of man-site vs. woman-site hostility in order to look at the discussion surrounding Elizabeth Wurtzel’s recent piece for The Atlantic on aging.

Let’s sum it up, if we can: Elizabeth Wurtzel goes to cool Brooklyn parties where men express disbelief that she has been alive for 45 years. Her secret, she feels, has something to do with being childless, politically liberal and defiant in a very general sense.

In response, Jezebel writer Tracy Moore notes that while it’s fun when Wurtzel acts so Wurtzely, denial may not be a universally satisfying solution to the fact that we all grow older and die. In passing, Moore also states that “it’s harder for women to age.” Is it?

We suspect that it is. For a pretty broad array of reasons (some ?cultural, more ?evolutionary), women are judged by their youthfulness, for which beauty is a proxy, more than men are, with the closest analogue on our side being wealth or prominence.

One of the things that distinguishes (we’re being general here because there are about three billion of us) the male dialogue from its female counterpart is its (sometimes blinkered) pragmatism. For whatever reason, we tend to speak about injustice- or imbalance-containing problems in a way that ignores the moral question in favor of directives on how to make it work. This is the reason, for example, that a site like AskMen’s “Power & Money” section is full of articles like “10 Ways To Think Like A CEO” and “How To Stay Out Of Debt,” rather than things like “It Happened To Me: She Judged Me For My Money.”

It’s not that we don’t experience life in the negative -- we do, and very acutely. It’s just that our taboo-structure, or our internal culture, contains this strong sense that to dwell on a bad feeling is to create the conditions for its re-occurrence. Out of this grows a generalized preference for advice over confession, and also something that can appear to women as shallowness.

It isn’t likely that a man would derive the same pleasure (and the same discursive ability) from an age-related compliment as Elizabeth Wurtzel has. Aging, or more directly, being seen by potential sex partners as “old,” is not a paramount male fear. But being seen as a loser is. Next Page >>

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