Vulnerability at Work: A Strength or a Risk?

"Boys don’t cry, girls are too emotional. Boys don’t show their emotions, girls talk everything out."

Clichés, stereotypes we grew up with. From a very young age, we’re conditioned to believe these — in kindergarten, in school, in relationships, friendships — and of course, this package comes with us into the workplace. We tend to treat these patterns as fundamental gender differences. That’s how we approach the other sex — not only in our private lives, but also during meetings, in hiring processes, decision-making, or in any kind of workplace conflict.

But what actually happens when we show our emotions in a professional environment? When we let others see how a certain situation affects us?

Well, we become vulnerable. We expose a sensitive point, which — if someone responds poorly — can easily be pressed further, causing deeper wounds. In that moment, we may become the losers of the situation. And who wants to end up in that position? Obviously, no one.

Still, as a woman, I see this issue a bit more nuanced.

Depending on our experience, position, and the situation itself, I believe there are times when we can afford to appear vulnerable — and times when we absolutely cannot. Let’s start with the cannot:

When we are responsible for others: When we’re not just risking our own skin but acting on behalf of colleagues, we owe them the responsibility to stick strictly to our goals. We must not mix our personal feelings or grievances into the matter — instead, represent our stance as objectively, efficiently, and fact-based as possible. The stakes are simply too high to allow anyone to detect our weak spots.

When only one solution exists at the end of the day: If you’ve ever worked in a team, you’ve likely encountered a situation where everyone wants their own idea to prevail. But no matter how much we’d like to consider these ideas, sometimes external constraints make that impossible. These can include a limited budget, tight deadlines, or information we have but others don’t. If we falter in that moment and can’t represent the only viable path without emotion, we can quickly find ourselves in a crossfire that leads to serious conflict or damage. It’s best to avoid these situations — remain as uninvolved as possible emotionally, and simply take on the executor role. There’s no room for emotions here.

So when can we show vulnerability, in my opinion?

In trusted relationships: If we’re lucky (or have worked consciously toward it), and we have relationships at work built on mutual trust — with a leader, mentor, or close colleague — then I believe there is a place for vulnerability. If the trust is there, it often helps to share how we feel about a situation with someone who understands it — who sees the full picture and the people involved — and who can offer real attention and advice. After all, telling these things to friends or family often doesn’t help; they might not understand why we felt what we did in that specific situation. Sometimes, just talking it out — like girls often do 🙂 — helps resolve it.

When our self-respect demands it: Hopefully this is rare, but sometimes, not showing our real feelings is more damaging than owning up to them. There can be situations where, for our own sake, it’s better to step out of role and stand up for ourselves — even if that means exposing our weak points. Of course, I don’t mean we should dump all our negative emotions on the other person in every little annoying or difficult situation, but I truly believe there are moments when this is the more honest choice. It’s wise to use assertive communication in these moments — if we’re skilled enough to pull that out even when emotions are high.

After the fact: Admitting our struggles, setbacks, or doubts in hindsight is perhaps the least risky form of vulnerability compared to the two above. By then, people assume we’ve somehow overcome the difficulty — and yet acknowledging past mistakes still reveals a kind of vulnerability. I believe this can be motivating for less experienced colleagues, although it doesn’t carry the same weight as showing vulnerability in real time.

Why do I think it’s sometimes worth showing vulnerability?

Because it has to come out somewhere. There is no human being who never slips, never loses their temper, or always acts according to plan. And if there is, they are probably repressing so much that it will eventually surface — one way or another, somewhere else.

Our professional credibility is not just defined by how vulnerable we allow ourselves to be, but also by how we handle it when we witness others’ vulnerability. It’s easy to feel superior and exploit a momentary weakness for a quick, ruthless win. But I believe the same set of rules applies here: there are situations where circumstances call for total victory — where the end justifies the means — and others where the damage caused to the other person just isn’t worth it. Our superiors may see us as efficient executors and driven winners, but our colleagues might feel betrayed. It’s hard to navigate between the two, but if we remember that at the end of the day, we need our colleagues' support and cooperation, we may choose a different path to success.

In my view, it all comes down to discernment: when is it worth it and when is it not? When can I afford to be vulnerable with relatively low risk — and when is the risk greater than the potential gain?