Workplace vulnerability: Share or else.

The most bizarre thing happened recently, and I felt compelled to share a laugh or two. Having worked in male-dominated industries for over 15 years, I was seldom—if ever—asked about my private life. When I interviewed for my first job, the employer told me point-blank: "I will never ask about your weekend." I smiled, appreciating the honesty. Truthfully, small talk isn't my thing — show me my office and let me get to work.

But not every organization operates that way.

Last year, I transitioned into new territory: the nonprofit world. I’d heard things—mostly about interpersonal dynamics, emotional intelligence, “cultural fit”—but I never imagined psychological manipulation.

During what seemed like an innocent team-building exercise, things took an unexpected turn. We were asked to share a vulnerability. Let me repeat that: in the context of team building, we were asked to share a vulnerability. I wondered: how far does the moral degradation go? It felt like a scene from a horror movie. A group assembled in a room without windows, a doctor taking notes, no exit.

One colleague confided in her perfectionist nature, another opened up about financial insecurity. When it was my turn, I did what many women who’ve worked in male-dominated spaces do: I politely opted out with a smile. Little did I know that choice would create consequences.

Fast forward to my performance review. The results were in. I was professional. I was performing well above my role. But—my colleagues “felt they didn’t know me.”

Then came the line: "You’re not allowing yourself to be vulnerable in your role."

It felt like an underhanded compliment. The fly in the martini.

If my work is good, what more do you need from me?

I’m professional. I perform. I drank the Kool-Aid—but apparently, I held the cup wrong.

What no one on my team (except my manager) knew was that beneath my professional exterior, I was drained. I was caring for a parent dying of cancer and my heart was broken.

I still showed up. I wore the ugly Christmas sweater on Zoom. I delivered. I was emotionally unavailable to a team that wanted access to my weaknesses. I was running on empty and unable to deliver the vulnerability they expected. They fired me.

Do boundaries exist anymore?

Can people work well together without knowing details of each other’s inner lives?

Vulnerability might be noble in theory—but in practice, it’s messy. And often not optional. In professional settings, if someone chooses to share, great. But if they don’t?

Respect that. Think twice before demanding openness from people who may be holding on by a thread. And maybe don’t punish them for the walls that keep them upright.

To the emotionally guarded — here’s looking at you. Keep showing up. On your terms.