Brene Brown Quotes

Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.

Authenticity is a collection of choices that we have to make every day. It's about the choice to show up and be real. The choice to be honest. The choice to let our true selves be seen.

You are imperfect, you are wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.

Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.

The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It's our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows.

Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.

Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.

Nostalgia is also a dangerous form of comparison. Think about how often we compare our lives to a memory that nostalgia has so completely edited that it never really existed.

If we share our shame story with the wrong person, they can easily become one more piece of flying debris in an already dangerous storm.

Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.

Until we can receive with an open heart, we are never really giving with an open heart.

Shame works like the zoom lens on a camera. When we are feeling shame, the camera is zoomed in tight and all we see is our flawed selves, alone and struggling.(page 68)

Midlife: when the Universe grabs your shoulders and tells you “I’m not f-ing around, use the gifts you were given.

Cruelty is easy, cheap and rampant.

When we stop caring about what people think, we lose our capacity for connection. When we become defined by what people think, we lose our willingness to be vulnerable.

Those who feel lovable, who love, and who experience belonging simply believe they are worthy of love and belonging. I often say that Wholeheartedness is like the North Star: We never really arrive, but we certainly know if we're headed in the right direction.

Expectations are resentments waiting to happen.

Many think vulnerability is weakness, but it is not. Those who refuse to be vulnerable lose the ability to understand others who are, and their fear and discomfort quickly turn into judgment and criticism.

Sufficiency isn't two steps up from poverty or one step short of abundance. It isn't a measure of barely enough or more than enough. Sufficiency isn't an amount at all. It is an experience, a context we generate, a declaration, a knowing that there is enough, and that we are enough.

You know, and so, I've come to this belief that, if you show me a woman who can sit with a man in real vulnerability, in deep fear, and be with him in it, I will show you a woman who, A, has done her work and, B, does not derive her power from that man. And if you show me a man who can sit with a woman in deep struggle and vulnerability and not try to fix it, but just hear her and be with her and hold space for it, I'll show you a guy who's done his work and a man who doesn't derive his power from controlling and fixing everything.

We cannot selectively numb emotions, when we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive emotions. Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness.

...In its original Latin form, sacrifice means to make sacred or to make holy. I wholeheartedly believe that when we are fully engaged in parenting, regardless of how imperfect, vulnerable, and messy it is, we are creating something sacred.

We are biologically, cognitively, physically, and spiritually wired to love, be loved, and to belong. When those needs are not met, we don’t function as were meant to be. We break. We fall apart. We numb. We ache … The absence of love and belonging will always lead to suffering.

Fitting in and belonging are two separate things. Fitting in involves people changing themselves in order to be accepted. Belonging allows people to be accepted as they are.

Perfectionism sucks the air out of your uniqueness and leaves you empty, away from who you could become.

When we're suffering, may of us are better at causing pain than feeling it. We spread hurt rather than let it inside.

[...] we need to cultivate the courage to be uncomfortable and to teach the people around us how to accept discomfort as a part of growth.

we can only love others as much as we love ourselves

DIG Deep = "get deliberate, inspired, & going" Deliberate in their thoughts and behaviors through prayer, meditation, or simply by setting intentions; Inspired to make new and different choices; Going. They take action.

Perfectionism is not abut healthy achievement and growth. Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect, and act perfect, we can minimize or avoid the pain of blame, judgement, and shame. It's a shield.

I define vulnerability as uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. With that definition in mind, let's think about love. Waking up every day and loving someone who may or may not love us back, whose safety we can't ensure, who may stay in our lives or may leave without a moment's notice, who may be loyal to the day they die or betray us tomorrow- that's vulnerability. Love is uncertain. It's incredibly risky. And loving someone leaves us emotionally exposed. Yes, it's scary, and yes, we're open to being hurt, but can you imagine your life without loving or being loved?

i am enough

In the absence of data, we will always make up stories. In fact, the need to make up a story, especially when we are hurt, is part of our most primitive survival wiring. Mean making is in our biology, and our default is often to come up with a story that makes sense, feels familiar, and offers us insight into how best to self-protect.

The author has discovered that people love to see vulnerability in others, but they are afraid to allow others to see vulnerability in them. The willingness to value individual vulnerability is courage; it is daring greatly.

Social success is growing into a person that other people can depend on.

People who want to do better in their lives show signs of feeling discomfort and vulnerability.  These are people who also possess courage, because there will be a great deal of risk involved. 

I'm slowing learning how to straddles the tension that comes with understanding I am tough and tender, brave and afraid, strong and struggling-all of these things, all of he time. I'm working on letting go of having to be one or the other and embracing the wholeness of wholeheartedness.

Cruelty is cheap, easy, and chickenshit." That's also a touchstone of my spiritual beliefs.

vulnerability is neither good nor bad. Rather, being vulnerable simply means you have the capacity to experience emotions.

We are the authors of our lives. We write our own daring endings.

When we ask for anything, we're almost always asking for help, in some form; help with money, permission, acceptance, advancement, help with our hearts... Brene Brown has found through her research that women tend to feel shame around the idea of being 'never enough'... at home, at work, in bed, never pretty enough, never smart enough, never thin enough, never good enough... Men tend to feel shame around the fear of being perceived as weak, or more academically, 'fear of being called a pussy'. Both sexes get trapped in the same box for different reasons. If I ask for help... I am not enough. If I ask for help... I'm weak. It's no wonder so many of us don't bother to ask, it's too painful.

Brene Brown writes: "Joy comes to us in moments - ordinary moments. We risk missing out on joy when we get too busy chasing down the extraordinary." I had been trying to chase dewn the extraordinary when actually I already had everything I would ever need.

Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we are supposed to be and embracing who we are.

The truth is: Belonging starts with self-acceptance. Your level of belonging, in fact, can never be greater than your level of self-acceptance, because believing that you're enough is what gives you the courage to be authentic, vulnerable and imperfect.

We all have gifts and talents. When we cultivate those gifts and share them with the world, we create a sense of meaning and purpose in our lives. Squandering our gifts brings distress to our lives. As it turns out, it’s not merely benign or “too bad” if we don’t use the gifts that we’ve been given; we pay for it with our emotional and physical well-being. When we don’t use our talents to cultivate meaningful work, we struggle. We feel disconnected and weighed down by feelings of emptiness, frustration, resentment, shame, disappointment, fear, and even grief.

Something has to die for forgiveness to take place. (Maya Angelou or Brene Brown)

If you're thinking, 'Great! I just need to be a superhero to fight perfectionism,' I understand. Courage, compassion, and connection seem like big, lofty ideals. But in reality, they are daily practices that, when exercised enough, become these incredible gifts in our lives. And the good news is that our vulnerabilities are what force us to call upon these amazing tools. Because we're human and so beautifully imperfect, we get to practice using our tools on a daily basis. In this way, courage, compassion, and connection become gifts - the gifts of imperfection.

Shame keeps worthiness away by convincing us that owning our stories will lead to people thinking less of us. Shame is all about fear. We’re afraid that people won’t like us if they know the truth about who we are, where we come from, what we believe, how much we’re struggling

To know that you are loved for who you are, and to know someone else in all of their vulnerability and to love them as they are, may be one of life’s most fulfilling experiences, says sociologist Brene Brown.

That feeling will come again—that feeling of not being enough for you. And I’ll sweep it up in me and then let it sweep out. I’ll try not to own it. I’ll not bear its heaviness.

Authenticity is the daily practice of letting of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are ~ Brene Brown

It's only in the last few years that I've learned that playing down the exciting stuff doesn't' take the pain away when it doesn't happen. It also creates a lot of isolation. Once you've diminished the importance of something, your friends are not likely to call and say, "I'm sorry that didn't work out. I know you were excited about it." Now when someone asks me about the potential opportunity that I'm excited about, I'm more likely to practice courage and say, "I'm so excited about the possibility. I'm trying to stay realistic, but I really hope it happens." When things haven't panned out, it's been comforting to be able to call a supportive friend and say, "Remember that event I told you about? It's not going to happen, and I'm so bummed.

Shame Sucker! You suck my joy away! You suck my fun away! You suck my happiness away! Shame, you suck!

Perfectionism is not the same thing as striving to be your best. Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect and act perfect, we can minimize or avoid the pain of blame, judgement and shame. It’s a shield. It’s a twenty-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it’s the thing preventing us from flight. ~ Brene Brown

I also see courage in myself when I'm willing to risk being vulnerable and disappointed. For many years, if I really wanted something to happen-an invitation to speak at a special conference, a promotion, a radio interview-I pretended that it didn't matter that much. If a friend or colleague would ask, "Are you excited about that television interview?" I'd shrug it off and say, "I'm not sure. It's not that big of a deal." Of course, in reality, I was praying that it would happen. It's only in the last few years that I've learned that playing down the exciting stuff doesn't' take the pain away when it doesn't happen. It also creates a lot of isolation. Once you've diminished the importance of something, your friends are not likely to call and say, "I'm sorry that didn't work out. I know you were excited about it." Now when someone asks me about the potential opportunity that I'm excited about, I'm more likely to practice courage and say, "I'm so excited about the possibility. I'm trying to stay realistic, but I really hope it happens." When things haven't panned out, it's been comforting to be able to call a supportive friend and say, "Remember that event I told you about? It's not going to happen, and I'm so bummed.

I embraced joy as my birthright. Radical black joy is inherent as a human need and not some special trinket you get after you rise high enough on the social-economic ladder or unlock some special level of desirability or accomplishment. –Tanya Denise Fields, “You Are Your Best Thing: Vulnerability, Shame Resilience and the Black Experience” (edited by Tarana Burke and Brene Brown)

Afterward I sat at a picnic table, feeling that post-performance emotional letdown (that I would later, thanks to Brene Brown, be able to more accurately describe as a "vulnerability hangover"), and smiled when Jim sat across from me.

The more we diminish our own pain, or rank it, compared to others have survived, the less empathic we are to everyone. That when we surrender our own joy to make those in pain feel less alone or to make ourselves feel less guilty, or somehow more committed, we deplete ourselves of what it takes to feel fully alive and fueled by purpose. And sometimes when we can't acknowledge the pain of others while experiencing our own joy, we close our eyes, insulate ourselves, pretended that there's nothing we can do to make things better, and opt out of helping others. This ability to opt out of suffering and injustice or pretend everything is okay is the core of privilege...The goal is to get to the place where we can think 'I am aware of what's happening, the part I play, and how I can can make it better, and that doesn't mean I have to deny the joy in my life.

do so by being involved and engaged parents, but also

Choosing authenticity means cultivating the courage to be imperfect.

Jobless Jack sits in his damp basement watching YouTube videos of Jordan Peterson, while Mary goes on a Brené Brown course on ‘vulnerability as a leadership skill’. Welcome to the second machine age!

Over the course of the last decade, we have witnessed something of a cultural awakening around the importance of embracing vulnerability in the quest for meaning and connection. The groundbreaking writing of Brene Brown has inspired millions to pursue what Brown calls "wholehearted living," a posture of resilience and compassion that begins with the conviction that "yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging." According to Brown, the only way to experience meaningful connection is to stop numbing and start engaging, to lean into uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure so we can "look at life and the people around us, and say, 'I'm all in.

As it turns out, this desire to be loved and to belong is not unique to emotionally needy writers spoiled by their parents. It is inherent to us all. It helps make us human. You'll find evidence of this in Brene Brown's research. She has spent the last twenty years studying the characteristics of people who, regardless of life circumstances, exhibit resilience. Using a qualitative research method known as grounded theory research, Brown conducted thousands of interviews with hundreds of people spanning all sorts of cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds to conclude that "a deep sense of love and belonging is an irreducible need for all women, men, and children." "We are biologically, cognitively, physically, and spiritually wired to love, to be loved, and to belong," Brown writes in The Gifts of Imperfection. "When those needs are not met, we don't function as we are meant to. We break. We fall apart. We hurt others. We get sick." Her research concluded that the key to connection is no mystery: "I realized that only one thing separated the men and women who felt a deep sense of love and belonging from the people who seemed to be struggling for it. That one thing was the belief in their worthiness. If we want to fully experience love and belonging, we must believe that we are worthy of love and belonging." In fact, Brown defines wholehearted living as "a way of engaging with the world from a place of worthiness." It's important to note that Brown uncovered these findings while researching the corrosive effects of shame. Shame is the ultimate connection killer, for it tells us that our flaws make us unworthy of love. Like many researchers and psychologists, Brown draws a distinction between shame and guilt, noting that the former focuses on being while the latter focuses on behavior. While guilt says, "I did something bad," shame says, "I am bad." Studies suggest a healthy dose of guilt can actually inspire us to make healthier choices, but shame, as a rule, proves counterproductive. For people of faith, and especially for Christians, this research raises some important questions. Does any claim to our inherent worthiness contradict religious teaching and the witness of our sacred texts? Can we deal honestly with our sins without internalizing shame? Does our belief system require that we see ourselves as nothing more than loathsome insects, deserving only to be swept by tsunami waves into the fires of hell? Or can we, too, engage the world from a place of worthiness? Many of us have been talked out of that hope by a parent, a Sunday school teacher, a pastor, or perhaps even our very own fragile selves. In some way or another, many of us have become convinced that we will never be worthy of love- because of our sin, because of our humanity, and because of something that happened in a mysterious garden a long time ago.

Who we are matters immeasurably more than what we know or who we want to be.

The antidote to shame is sharing—according to experts, and also in my experience. “Where there is honesty and vulnerability, shame can’t survive,” says Brene Brown,

Effective speaking is about the unpredictable and uncontrollable art of connection.

Show Your Partner Empathy Empathy is not just feeling sorry for a person or knowing what their pain must be like; rather, it is an act of taking the time to feel with the other person. Brene Brown says that when you have sympathy, your loved one is metaphorically in a hole, and you are looking down at them from above. However, when you have empathy, you get into the hole with your loved ones, and you sit with them in their pain. Sympathy may provoke you to try to fix a problem your partner is facing or make light of the situation to try to make them feel better, but empathy allows you to listen to them without judgment, and it allows you to see the world from their perspective and emerge from some of the biases you have. Not only does empathy help your partner to become more vulnerable with you, but it helps you become more vulnerable when you speak to them. When you are empathetic, you open your mind, and you deepen your bond with the other person by paying attention to what they are expressing to you rather than trying to merely wipe away their pain. As a result, you and your partner can be honest, and your anxious partner will have fewer worries about your intentions and your love for them. While empathy cannot fix anxious attachment alone, it eases some of the tension, and it allows you to become vulnerable enough to heal from the hurts that keep you both from having a fully committed relationship.

I did believe that I could opt out of feeling vulnerable, so when it happened - when the phone rang with unimaginable news; or when I was scared; or when I loved so fiercely that rather than feeling gratitude and joy I could only prepare for loss - I controlled things. I managed situations and micromanaged the people around me. I performed until there was no energy left to feel. I made what was uncertain certain, no matter what the cost. I stayed so busy that the truth of my hurting and my fear could never catch up. I looked brave on the outside and felt scared on the inside.