Cultivating Healthy Margins In Life

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries. Avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken. It will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable." C.S. Lewis

To love well is to love fully, and that means being vulnerable.

We are created to share life with others. Not superficially, or transactionally. But deeply, through trust, honesty, presence, and mutual care. As C.S. Lewis once observed, if you open your treat, it will be broken. There is no alternative. 

Love requires exposure. // Exposure requires risk.

Showing up requires courage. // Courage requires willingness for mistakes.

For many of us, that risk is not theoretical.

We carry our scars. Some are deep. Some are old. Scars formed by moments when we trusted fully and were not met with care. Formed by toxic love. Formed by unspoken expectations. Formed by close ones speaking unfairly.

Some scars are so deep they become fundamentally part of our being.

When we show up authentically we open ourselves to the possibility of being dismissed, misunderstood, or betrayed.

So we learned and we adapted. We've become guarded, more careful, less expressive, less open. And we've learn that self-protection feels safer than vulnerability. But self-protection also limits capacity.

The Paradox Of Vulnerability

Vulnerability is frightening because it opens ourselves to the possibility of being hurt, experiencing loss, or being made a fool.

It touches on three of our most deepest fears:
1) Rejection -- "If they see this, they'll leave."
2) Loss of Status -- "If I admit this, I'll look incompetent."
3) Loss of Control -- "If I open up, I can't manage the narrative."

And yet, without vulnerability, nothing meaningful grows.  We can be admired and still unknown. We can be surrounded and still lonely. 

That's the paradox.

Vulnerability feels like weakness. But it is the ground for strength. 

Vulnerability is our doorway to peace, joy, deeper intimacy, shared meaning, and authentic belonging. It is our willingness to be seen accurately. It is strength that refuses disguises.

Without vulnerability, relationships remain shallow. They may function, but they do not flourish. The kind of abundant life many of us long for, the kind of life marked by connection and wholeness, requires courage. It requires us to bravely show up, time and time again.

An Audacious Claim

Our faith makes an audacious claim: God is not repelled by vulnerability. The incarnation itself, God taking on flesh, is a form of divine vulnerability. God does not remain distant and invulnerable. God enters in. God shows up.

Margins Are Necessary

When we talk about emotional and spiritual wholeness, this isn't simply about "being completely open." It is about learning how to be open in a way that this wise and life-giving (for everyone).

This involves developing:
  • Self-awareness and relational-awareness
  • Emotional regulation
  • Clarity around personal values
  • Healthy boundaries

We learn how to create and maintain healthy margins, the space between your inner world (your thoughts, emotions, convictions) and the inner world of others.

This space determines things like who has access, when we share our stories and truths, how much we share, and what is appropriate for the relationship. The reality is that not everyone deserves access to your story.

Without that space, we:
  • overextend ourselves to gain approval or keep from experiencing the discomfort of conflict.
  • Absorb other people's emotions as our own, or expect others to be responsible for our own emotions.
  • Collapse our convictions or violate our boundaries to avoid conflict or the feeling like we are letting someone down.
  • Provide opportunity for our story to be eroded or erased by another's story rather than shared or joined together. 
  • Withdraw completely.

None of these are true vulnerability. They are survival strategies.

It does appear at first glance that space seems like the opposite of vulnerability. People struggle with boundaries (especially Christians) because it doesn't feel loving and seems contrary to being a martyr.

The truth though: healthy margins are actually a sign of mature vulnerability and love. They mean we know what we feel. We know what we believe. We can articulate our needs and say no when necessary. This isn't defensiveness. It's integration.

Holding or keeping margins means shame can lose its power. Shame does not thrive in the light. By holding space for sharing our secrets, we shrink the space shame has to feed and fester. And by being mindful of how and when we share those secrets means we prevent opportunity for shame to feed.

We will have fewer, but deeper and more meaningful relationships. Of course not everyone we meet will have the same level of intimacy, nor should they. However, we hold space for certain relationships to deepen and grow more intimate rather than strangling them quantity of relationships.

Our leadership strengthens in part because people trust leaders who are human and are capable of making hard decisions like saying now. It's also because we aren't allowing ourselves to constantly teeter on the edge of burnout by always being available. If we hold space, people will learn how to honor that space, or they'll move on (that's ok too). However, if we don't, people will always take advantage of this lack of space. We cannot expect people to honor un-held space.

When you maintain healthy space, you aren't hiding. You are showing up, fully and intentionally, rather than reacting out of fear or obligation. Real vulnerability is not doing whatever someone asks in order to preserve connection. It is being present in the relationship without abandoning yourself.

SHOWING UP FULLY

Just imagine how awesome relationships would be if were weren't pretending, performing, holding silent resentment, or suppressing what really matters to you.

By being authentically present we can engage from a place of roundedness. By being clear about who you are through your boundaries, you become freer to love, because your love is no longer fueled by fear of rejection but by of choice. And choosing love is always stronger than compelled love.

A Quick Reflection

Ask yourself:

Where am I performing instead of being honest?

Where am I withholding because I fear rejection?

Who in my life has earned deeper access, and how much space am I providing for those relationships?

What would one step of courageous honesty look like this week?