Notes On…Daring Greatly (in therapy)

I love me some Brené Brown.

Maybe you’ve seen her TED Talk, the one where she talks about vulnerability with humor, warmth, and that unmistakable Texas grit. If not, I’d really recommend it. Her work has become a guidepost for so many people navigating the complex, tender landscape of being human. As a therapist, I watch her insights play out in real time. In the therapy room, you see what it looks like when someone finally risks being seen.

One of Brené’s most powerful ideas is this: vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s courage. And I think therapy is one of the clearest ways people live that out. Sitting across from someone and saying, this is where it hurts, this is what I long for, this is what I’m afraid of. THAT takes real strength. Quiet strength, the kind we don’t always recognize as bravery.

She says, “Trust is built in small moments.” That’s how therapy begins, too. It’s rarely an immediate deep dive. Most clients start slow. They test the space. They offer a little, then wait. And if the space feels safe, if the therapist meets them with care instead of judgment, something starts to shift. Vulnerability begins to feel like relief instead of risk.

Brené talks about shame and how it grows in silence. Shame tells us we're alone in our pain. That we’re too messy, too much, or not enough. But therapy interrupts that voice. It creates space for people to speak the parts of themselves they’ve kept hidden. And when those parts are met with warmth, not rejection, a new story can begin. One that says I am healing. I am allowed to take up space. I don’t have to carry this alone.

Going to therapy is still a radical act. In a world that often rewards hiding and performing, it’s a bold thing to choose honesty. It’s brave to believe your story matters, even when you’re still figuring it out.

That’s what Daring Greatly looks like. Not always big or dramatic. Sometimes it’s just showing up, telling the truth, and staying in the room.