Are Trump Supporters Too Vulnerable for the Truth?

Think about it for a second. Vulnerability can mean being in contact with a sense of helplessness. Hopefully, this can lead to memories of despair that once upon a time may have felt lethal and endless, but now hopefully don’t have to remain so.

People who love Trump seem very set on not only worshipping him but on defending him and identifying with him. If Jeffrey Epstein, the notorious billionaire who is alleged to have pandered in sex trafficking with under age girls committed suicide as he did, and has been linked to Trump at least in the past, the Trump supporters’ script is already written. Trump is an innocent guy whom liberals love to hate and accuse. There is a conspiracy about, that aims only to smear him.

Even people who allege Christian values of decency and morality seem to skip the rules when it comes to their leader. Well, you know, everyone does stuff and, look; he never said he was perfect. If his treatment of women has been demeaning and degrading and compromising and ugly, well look again; he is human and Christianity is all about pardon.

I think some of us need to remember how vulnerable it can be to seek the truth. Optimally we start out believing in the perfection of our leaders, our parents, and our moral commandments. What starts out as a supreme set of rules, gets to be questioned. Whereas when we are young we need to idealize leaders so as to have stability, hopefully we grow to become more independent and more able to rely on our own judgments and the supports of others who can help us without smothering us or owning our intellect and our souls.

Some of us get stuck in arrested development. And it is not always the obviously weak and needy among us. Sometimes it’s the bully or the grandiose one or the one who seems to be able to fire anyone—someone like Jeffrey Epstein for example. The bully has been bullied in the past, but here I want to talk to the rest of us, those who get enmeshed in personality worship.

The personality worship we are witnessing in the time of Trump for many makes the truth irrelevant. It makes evidence a figment of the imagination of the other side. It makes knowing about anything that might puncture our worship of our higher authority, tantamount to feeling like everything is crumbling. In other words it is too scary.

How can we be brave if we can’t face the truth? How can we be brave if we can’t stand to admit that we are scared to face the truth, at the very least? After all we depend on a structure, a set of values, some things and people on whom we can rely. When things become chaotic we shudder. And when we learn that the people we believed in have lied to us all along, we can feel truly downtrodden. In other words, we can feel not only betrayed but also like fools. And we can feel confused as to where to turn.

Of course we can go from one leader to another, from one religion to another, from one cult to another. And if we should decide to really want the truth, we need to be supported by people who won’t deride us for having been naïve and wrong.

This is a big question we should be asking more often. Do we want the evidence, even if it implicates those we love or those we have believed in. Do we want to listen to our children who tell us priests have abused them, or other religious or scholastic authorities or sports coaches? Do we want to look at each other and put down our figurative arms and say we want to know the truth about all the things—the racism, the corruption, the inequalities, and the fact that people in power love to see us fighting with each other? Do we want to face that each and every one of us is prejudiced to some degree and that we will to some degree have to interrupt our certainty to weather the storms of what it can feel like to doubt—not only others but ourselves?

It’s not an easy choice because hate infuses us with an awful lot of adrenaline. Discovering the truth, taking off our masks and giving up the scripts already written eons ago, can be pretty thrilling as well. Just saying. And, just hoping.




Embracing Vulnerability Changes Everything: Or Does It?



There is a movement of vulnerability in the land. And one towards authenticity as connected to vulnerability. Contacting our deepest parts can lead to courage in expressing what is real and can lead to greater intimacy because it risks the honesty to have deeper connections.

I have suggested elsewhere that vulnerability needs protection in order to be viable and safe enough, but here I’d like to focus on something else. Namely, if we become in touch with our own vulnerability, it would stand to reason (I know, an iffy word these days) that our self-empathy would extend to other people who experience psychological or physical vulnerability as well. We would, as Bryan Stevenson writes of brokenness (Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, Spiegel & Grau, 2014), change once we become in touch with our own brokenness, which he sees as a human phenomenon common to all of us—kind of like vulnerability. Once we experience this shift, through the struggles of living through losses and pain, or through coming up against terrible circumstances) we would no longer want to break any other person.

Vulnerability seems directly connected. When we hit our bottom, addiction not being a necessary factor, we know what it’s like to suffer feelings and realities of helplessness, humiliation and hopelessness. We know life is not always fair and this increases our humility, thereby increasing our capacity to both empathize and identify with our fellow human beings.

That is my logic, and my experience as a therapist and a patient and a person. Humility and caring come with knowing our deepest sides. But is this in fact the case in our world of today? It doesn’t exactly seem that way; at least I don’t see the vulnerability craze if you will, translating into social and political stances of embracing the plight of the prejudiced against, the poor and the oppressed in general.

Does this mean that those in the wellness fields are content to wander off into reveries of self-satisfaction and tranquility without losing the balance achieved by greater well being on personal levels? And does this in turn mean that vulnerability, as it is playing out, is a private and insular matter that renders its participants more detached from the social and political mayhem which is not all that new but is so very intensified in these times?

I do not see many people entranced by wellness movements of various types extending the passion about wellness to the people in are midst who are suffering from racism, from white supremacy, from the absence of gun control, from prison brutality and from poverty. In fact I don’t read columns that connect the two arenas—wellness and social and political wellness: vulnerability and social and political vulnerability.

Vulnerability is about the deepest and most helpless parts of any of us. I do not see vulnerability concerns as anything but shallow and self-absorbed unless they lead us to give a damn, and to give one out loud about our physical climate, and the one out of five in our midst who are poor, for one.

Vulnerability leads to courage, to my mind, when it is protected and safe enough to lead to enough stability so as not to be completely manipulated into states of dis-regulation. However we need to watch out for the kind of manipulation that causes us to feel too self-congratulatory and self-righteous, while ignoring the suffering around us.

To do nothing about a society that is diseased is not necessarily brave at all. And I suspect that the people, who are ignoring social factors and human beings, have not gone deep enough to contact the fears and vulnerabilities inside each and every one of us.

I would like to add that this goes way beyond the tragic drama of mass shootings that so far has not been able galvanize real action. The violence in our daily lives, the kids who bully and who are bullied are the ones who are most vulnerable to mass violence appeals and movements; we can’t afford to ignore them either, on a daily basis.

#Vulnerability social problems


#Vulnerability protected





Some Notes on Vulnerability: To Democrats and Republicans

Actually I’m both a Democrat and a psychotherapist who was initially afraid to write this piece. I had wanted to talk about vulnerabilities faced by both Republicans and Democrats, as I looked around for those wiser than me on these subjects. I had started thinking that many of us are so out of touch with our own vulnerabilities that we wind up being manipulated by people who are savvy enough to provoke our vulnerability to attack, rejection and public shaming.

I had been angry with Democrats who seem to fall into the bullying of many in the Republican Party who in turn seem to know how to play on racist themes that are smoldering just beneath the surface. Why, I was asking myself, don’t Democrats learn to band together and gain the knowledge of the psychology that Trump and his cronies are using against us?

But wait, I told myself just this morning. Why was I waiting for experts in fields of psychology and mental health to figure this out when I deal with dynamics like these all the time in my work as a therapist? And then I said wait, again. Am I not acting just like the Democrats I am seeing as weak and oblivious to power dynamics that should be more apparent. And then I realized the answer was yes, that I was afraid to lose or offend potential readers who want to pretend that we are not afraid of being hated for our opinions or our questions on political levels as well as personal ones.

As one example of fear about interrupting political correctness, there was my own apprehension about criticizing the Presidency of Barack Obama, who to me seemed not to face directly dynamics of hatred and polarization with enough honesty. The panic of many Democrats in dealing with our own racism head on was not necessarily helped by President Obama when he told us after fits of violence or the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School, “This is not who we are”. That did not really serve us well because in many ways this has been who we are, with lots of propaganda fed to all of us that there was an American dream to be had, and not so very hard to attain. This was a fairy tale promise and part of the anger of the Trump base has been the sense that other people have received undeserved handouts while they have lost ground.

We all have histories of vulnerability that are being lived out in the present. Most Trump supporters, it seems to me, would feel rebuffed by friends and families should they question his leadership or his behavior. Many of his supporters have tacitly or overtly agreed that to question any of his accusations or behaviors would risk to be rejected by the whole base as unpatriotic. They risk being humiliated by leadership and being called names publicly. Republican leaders as well, risk personal and political retaliation as well.

Trump is a person who “warns”: he speaks with a glare and a finger pointed, a finger and an expression that say, “You have to make me feel good. You have to agree with me that the only truth in the world is the one I say. You have to laugh off any of the questions raised against me, or anything that you yourselves might find questionable about me. You have to assume, with the rest of our group that there are plots against me in the press, in the Democratic Party, in the people who only criticize me because I love America and they hate America.”

As for Democrats, we tend to be scared to death of being seen as less than pure. We don’t realize, many of us that is, that the history of racism in America, belongs to all of us, those who have committed crimes against others of a different race and those who have turned our backs and lived comfortably in neighborhoods of one color only—that being white.

Let’s face it: Republicans are the slick ones and Democrats the naïve ones who often shoot themselves in the foot. Democrats have a vulnerability that is very easy to take advantage of, as long as we don’t know we have it. We hate being hated, and we hate being or even seeming hateful. When it happens that one of us mentions something that can be used as unpatriotic or anti-Semitic, we have to have a summit about it with apologies abounding. This is so even if the politicians who rabidly support Israel—as one example– are supporting the religious importance of the state of Israel to them, and not Jews per se, not in the least. And yet it becomes another victory for Republicans who can tell the rest of us we hate our country and are disloyal.

The truth is that love of country—real love—is like loving a child. This is a love that doesn’t stay unconditional and prolifically filled with anthems and flags. It is about dedication, and interrupting malfunctions, depressions, aggressions; it is about interrupting and addressing issues when things go wrong or need attention. To want to interrupt economic inequalities (also experienced intensely by many Republicans) is not unpatriotic.

If we could realize that egotism, panic, aggression and cruelty are part of the human condition we could stop playing (and being played) with the idea of inequality between us. We have more in common with each other than we are led to think. And as scary as that might feel, it’s a hell of a lot more scary to feel there is nothing left but the “us” and the “them”. It is adrenalin fueling to hate and it takes getting used to, to face the hate becoming less attractive and less addictive.

As a therapist, I feel a tad less afraid than at the beginning of this writing, because honesty about what’s really going on inside can often be freeing. I think if we could start focusing on our fears not only of disagreeing but also of agreeing with each other, we might just have a chance of interrupting the horrific hatred that has become so epidemic


#Vulnerability and politics

#Democrats and Republicans


Vulnerability as Political

Vulnerability may be very hot right now on many bookshelves and for many audiences, but there is at the same time a rather frightful detachment from the most vulnerable people in our and other cultures. The little immigrant children who come to us in pictures and stories of our major newspapers are not causing rebellions in the streets, and pressure for immediate action. These children, and of course their parents and all the others– in many arguments, are not even a major voting point.

My concern is that when we place vulnerability on the surface of our lives it can become a self-absorbing call to tend to our own wellbeing only. It can lose the feature of real empathy, that of caring about people who are mistreated on what we think of as lower echelons—people suffering from violence in crime infested neighborhoods, homelessness, inequality of all levels and sorts.

If I think of vulnerability as daring greatly, as leading me into intimacy, I may stay on the surface of things, as I call it, on the ceilings. Basement vulnerability can be very raw, stark, chaotic, and pretty crazy. We can be disheveled physically and certainly mentally. We have to face our own brokenness; it is not just about being vulnerable but realizing that inside on some level we are all broken, by our early experience, by the disappointments and losses of life. Often there is a broken and shaky quality to vulnerability. Vulnerability has content, and people in the midst of it often do not feel the stability or clarity to move forward with any speed. They are not ready to show the world a complete or organized experience. In moments of vulnerability we move in halted ways. We need to accept that there can be a broken piece to us. We are not whole and therefore somewhat broken.

There is a political feature to vulnerability. It has to do with noticing the broken and left out people among us and to give a shit. I hear many conversations about the American economy being good and I wonder what people are thinking about the one in five who are poor, about the inequities of our prison system, about the many who can’t pay back their loans and can’t afford health insurance.

The people who vote for Trump are also vulnerable. They yearn for the leader who makes them feel strong, whether or not he tells the truth. They also have trouble contacting the vulnerability inside them so they would look for a candidate that does not toy with their fantasies of grandeur and nostalgia, which is often a longing for things that never were to begin with.

If I fear and loathe the chaos and mess inside me, then I am likely to see chaos and poverty and craziness outside of me as a problem of “others”—not as something that concerns me personally.

I am going to walk by tents of homeless people, feeling that it is very sad, but not untenable. And I am going to read about violence in countries far away and think it has nothing to do with me. I am not going to even ponder that many countries in the West, including our own, have had a part in destabilizing countries in Latin America and the Middle East and Africa, and that we owe them restitution, rather than thinking of laws against the refugees who really want to stay in their own countries, should they be safe enough.

I am going to consider myself liberated, mindful, and vulnerable, but the messier parts I will see only in others who are naked in their needs and inability to cope.

When I recognize my own basements and come to terms with having to deal with the bottom levels of my own trauma, my own weakness and fear, I will recognize the same levels of need in others, even if they look different than me. I will have less of a tendency to feel superior or detached.

I used to think of myself as unworthy of empathy for what felt like trauma in my life when I didn’t qualify in terms of the standards of racial difference, severity of poverty, and crimes like rape or murder of a loved one. I didn’t get scared on the way to school by anything close to gun violence, as a kid even if the boy down the block, who would sometimes hit me out of nowhere, scared me a lot. And yes, I was already overcome by weakness, and after all these years I remember his name was Ira.

Now I feel there is no such thing as being unworthy of empathy. Some of us suffer from emptiness and defeat and others from actual physical trauma. Some people are doing pretty well but we all have a history of helplessness. We were all children once and can knock inside at our own doors and feel what that is like—to feel helpless.

This is political because we need to open ourselves to translate caring into voting for people and issues that exude vulnerability and need to be helped to repair the states of inequality that abound. Again we can only begin to care, to dare to care—greatly and less greatly—if we can identify with the neediness both inside us and out.

These are not statements that are wishy-washy, the meanderings of a snowflake. These are offerings about our needing to face our vulnerabilities also so we don’t project our hatred and weakness onto each other, and so that we don’t take polarization for granted. And so we don’t aim for invulnerability, grandiosity and isolation.


#Vulnerability and politics



Humiliation Interrupted: The Dignity in Being Stuck

We have a culture very big on words; one might say that it is a talky culture. When little children are having a tantrum or having a meltdown, often they are asked to use their words. The problem is that often they don’t have the words or even the concepts. They need grownups to help them translate what can seem overwhelming into words that express possible moods or needs. And sometimes they need holding and patience until the episode passes.

Children don’t automatically express their feelings and needs in words; they need modeling and also a safe enough atmosphere in which to do so. This means their words and needs are listened to and taken seriously, and that upsets that come with confusion are met with comfort and acceptance. If a child learns that his/her words go unheard or ignored, invalidated or even worse shamed, that child may fall short; stay hidden; he or she may become nonverbal or withdrawn—as just some examples.

A child, who withdraws or makes believe only, can’t really have practice in resolving conflicts in which at least two people have to communicate. Then comes a clincher in cycles of stuck-ness of development, which is shame at the lack of social graces. This is often accompanied by becoming lost—slow to launch and unclear as to how to find out what one wants or needs. In a climate in which appearances trump authenticity, one can learn how to look as if smooth or clear. One can learn the lingo of most things, including the language of mindfulness and vulnerability. But if someone isn’t adept at locating an inner stuck-ness it can be likely to that to compromise the quality and capacity of thinking and relating as well.

Renee, a woman in my practice, came into therapy when she was forty and in the process of getting a divorce. A talented researcher, she felt inept at locating her emotions. Her marriage had suffered because, as she told me, she had gone through the motions, done the parenting the most enlightened book suggested, using the dialogue the books prescribed. Her husband was an elementary school teacher and much more in touch with the emotional side of things. As their children were growing he said he wanted more intimacy on emotional levels. She turned inward, not really wanting to reveal what seemed to be such a big lack in her: she didn’t really even know what he was talking about.

Renee felt helpless; she felt weak and she felt vulnerable but it was something she couldn’t put into words. In addition the divorce made her need her friends more and even need financial assistance from her parents who lived close by. She told me she was a loser, that none of her friends needs so much help, financially or emotionally. To contact a therapist made her feel, she said, like a double loser. She saw no way or talking to her parents who had helped her already and enough was enough; she should behave like a grownup.

Renee’s parents had been devoted but on the stern side. She, as a child, was sensitive and particularly sensitive on picking up on the moods and emotional needs of the adults around her. She was smart and had a good vocabulary but held back from expressing any feelings that might upset her parents and thus be controversial. Her parents complained that “Renee is the kid with the brains and all the words but she won’t let us in.”

In essence they were all stuck. Her parents wanted to know what Renee was feeling, but did they? Certainly they didn’t get how indirectly they discouraged her from speaking out by their sternness. Also they did not take the initiative in using their own intuition to help her name feelings she couldn’t do on her own. For example (and this is not a prescription or the only way): “Renee is it hard to talk to us because you think we’ll get sad or mad”? This kind of opening initiates a possible dialogue by having offered Renee an option that would show her they in fact were open to listening hard and openly.

In the therapy our work centered on Renee’s vulnerability and her shame about being so stuck on interpersonal levels. She was stuck; people get stuck. People who are stuck can’t lean into vulnerability or dare greatly. They are too scared and too confused and too lost. The biggest and most crucial intervention includes that regarding dignity. There is, in other words, dignity in finding people where they are stuck.

Renee allowed me to call her parents to invite her parents in for some therapy sessions. She allowed me to interpret to them how she had become stuck, and how they had missed some important interventions that Renee had needed. They had done many good things and also the best they knew how. But now they had a chance to start something over again—a level of attunement to Renee as she was now as a chronological adult and to the Renee she had been as a child.


People tend to hate failure, especially when it is not a one shot deal. They hate being weak, because weakness often comes with bullying that is still a part of school and political culture. They hate being exposed for differences, and they hate being stuck or having need of remediation in any way.

We can teach the language of vulnerability all we want but unless we get to shifting the culture of humiliation as associated with being stuck, we will just be mouthing meaningless phrases and teaching others to do so as well.

#Hating failure

#Vulnerability as weakness