Softness is a skill

Being perceived as soft, is often immediately linked to weakness. Much like every other outdated phrase of masculinity masquerading as a fragile ego, the idea of being labelled as soft is usually interpreted as being a pushover, lacking resilience or unable to hold power in any given situation.

The link between softness and strength is rarely made.

To retain a warm disposition after experiencing hardship is not an insurmountable amount of work. It’s much easier to avoid hardships by cutting off access to yourself entirely, staying safe and sheltered within an iron clad defence.

What you label as safety is really a sealed, sanitised world running alongside reality. It shields you from discomfort, but also from growth, keeping you suspended in a stagnant version of safety you’ve convinced yourself is real.

These are often the same type of people who dodge difficult conversations by deflecting, or who use the silent treatment as a reflexive response to conflict.

As a reformed silent-treatment expert, fuelled by a hyper-independent nature, I had managed to convince myself that no matter the outcome, I could comfortably go it alone.

An offhanded comment at a dinner party made me question my hard wired beliefs. I distinctly remember saying, “I love my people, they’re the best – but they’re ‘nice to have’, I think I’d be fine by myself”.

A friends swift rebuttal instantly challenged my view, highlighting the importance of community and reinforcing that life is only good because you have people to share it with. It compelled me to pull apart my perspective, instead of just rattling it off as the drafted talking point in my mind.

I had completely neglected to acknowledge that parts of my personality, the way I view the world and the reason that I’m able to try my hand at whatever crash hot idea of the day I have at the time is largely shaped by the people around me. More so, the significant contribution they make in the unmeasurable time, energy and support they dedicateto me.

As a self-identified solo operator, I relinquished myself of the perceived burden of having to deal with things I didn’t want to. I signed off on my own permission slip, absolving myself of any responsibilities I didn’t see the value or merit in dealing with.

Determined to discard it rather than process it, because working through any strong yet confusing feelings would mean retracing my steps to the core reason I found it uncomfortable, and at that stage I wasn’t willing to do that.

It feels similar to wanting to renovate your house for improvements, digging down a little, then hitting a water pipe, and instead of working through solutions to manage the setback or address the weak spot, you choose to throw the dirt back on top, pat it down, and return to regular programming.

You settle into what feels familiar and free of immediate inconvenience, rather than doing the work and benefitting from an improved home that better suits your needs.

But like the fictitious water pipe, pushing down unprocessed emotions will eventually compound, just like the sediment you tossed over the problem to make it go away.

Deciding to be part of something that extends beyond yourself means putting yourself out there, which exposes you to more experiences, both good and bad. Even if it’s the latter, the more trials you endure, the more you benefit by building resilience, increasing your tolerance to adversity and learning what to avoid in the future.

Softness doesn’t automatically grant entry, but it allows you to be accessible. A hard exterior often fails to decipher the difference between the positive and the negative, limiting your chance to experience anything of real value.

Venturing into the world with an open mind, even after it has taught you to harden, is an act of real strength.