Every relationship has vulnerabilities, and they don’t exist in just one place. Like layers in an ecosystem, they show up in us as individuals, in the patterns we create together, and in the world around us. Naming these is not about blame – it’s about gaining clarity about where repair and protection are needed.
Jordan and Alex had begun to steady themselves. With a better understanding of responsibility and limits set, the constant chaos was no longer running the show. But a new question emerged: Now what?
For Jordan, the affair had rewritten their sense of self. They often thought, Am I the person who got betrayed? Is that my whole story now?
For Alex, shame loomed large. Their inner monologue repeated, I’m the one who ruined everything. Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be.
This is where the next shift comes in: Author Your Story.
Why Story Matters
Humans make meaning through story. We can’t help it. We narrate our lives to ourselves and others: what happened, why it matters, what it says about who we are. The problem is, when we’re hurt, those stories can shrink us.
- I’m the one who was cheated on, so I must not be enough.
- I’m the one who messed up, so I’m broken beyond repair.
- Our relationship will always be defined by this betrayal.
Stories like these feel true in the moment, but they lock us into an identity that keeps us powerless and stuck. When betrayal, silence, or avoidance take over the story, we forget there are other chapters to be written.
The Pen in Your Hand
Authoring your story means choosing to pick up the pen again. You don’t get to erase the chapters that have already been written. What happened, happened. But you do get to decide how the story continues. The pain doesn’t have to be the ending; it can become one chapter in a much larger book.
Picture a library shelf. Right now, the “betrayal,” “loss,” or “addiction” book may be the only one you see front and center, blocking everything else. Authoring your story means sliding that book back into its place, where it belongs as part of your history, while also making space for what came before and what’s still to be written.
And before we turn the page, we have to pause and look back. To write a stronger chapter, it’s not enough to move forward blindly. We need to understand the pages that came before. Every relationship carries vulnerabilities – those tender places that, if unacknowledged, turn into cracks in the foundation. Naming them doesn’t trap us in the past – it actually frees us. Because once we can see the cracks, we can protect and reinforce them as we build the future.
Understanding Vulnerabilities Through Layers
Every relationship has vulnerabilities, and they don’t exist in just one place. Like layers in an ecosystem, they show up in us as individuals, in the patterns we create together, and in the world around us. Naming these is not about blame – it’s about gaining clarity about where repair and protection are needed.
1. Personal Vulnerabilities (the inner layer)
These are the individual wounds, habits, or insecurities we carry into the relationship. They come from our personal history, our childhood experiences, mental and physical health, past relationships, or deeply held beliefs about ourselves.
- For Jordan, silence was a personal vulnerability. They often swallowed their needs, hoping Alex would just notice.
- For Alex, avoidance was their vulnerability – minimizing or hiding things when conflict felt threatening.
Personal vulnerabilities are each individual’s responsibility. They may not be your fault – you didn’t choose your childhood wounds or the patterns you picked up along the way, but they are still yours to face. We can’t expect a partner to carry or fix them. Claiming responsibility doesn’t mean shame or self-blame; it means recognizing that I am the one with the power to alter these patterns. When I name them, I stop being ruled by them. Instead of quietly dictating how I show up, they become places where growth and healing can actually take root.
2. Relational Vulnerabilities (the shared layer)
Relational vulnerabilities are the patterns created between two people. They aren’t caused by just one partner; they’re shaped by the dynamic itself. This means they are a shared responsibility. Both people have to own their role in the cycle, whether that’s pursuing, withdrawing, escalating, or shutting down. Here are a few examples of relational vulnerabilities:
- The Pursue–Withdraw Cycle: Jordan pressed with questions, Alex withdrew. The more one pursued, the more the other retreated—leaving both unheard and unsafe.
- Unspoken Expectations: Jordan hoped Alex would reassure without being asked; Alex assumed trust should be automatic. Both left disappointed.
- Conflict Avoidance: Alex minimized to “keep the peace,” which Jordan experienced as dishonesty—reinforcing fear.
- Power Imbalance: Jordan deferred to Alex in decision-making, building quiet resentment while Alex felt pressured to carry more than they wanted.
Relational vulnerabilities are the “dance steps” couples fall into without even realizing it. Over time, the rhythm becomes automatic, carving grooves in the floor. The problem isn’t that couples dance – it’s that they don’t recognize the choreography. Without awareness, the same steps repeat until the cracks widen. But once named, couples can pause, reset the rhythm, and learn new moves.
3. External Vulnerabilities (the outer layer)
No relationship exists in isolation. Stress seeps in. Work demands, parenting responsibilities, finances, health struggles, cultural expectations, family pressures – these forces don’t automatically break a relationship, but they amplify the cracks that already exist.
For Jordan and Alex, long work hours and exhaustion left little energy for each other. Conversations became logistical checklists instead of connection. The depletion didn’t cause the betrayal alone, but it created fertile ground for disconnection to grow.
External vulnerabilities matter because even the strongest relationship can feel strained under outside pressure. If couples mistake these pressures as failures of love, they end up fighting the wrong enemy – each other. But naming them changes the story: “We’re not broken; we’re under pressure. Let’s face this together.”
Try This: Learning to Tell the Story of Past Vulnerabilities
The goal of naming vulnerabilities isn’t just to look back, nor is it to rehash your pain points. It’s to understand how to protect them moving forward. Every relationship has tender places, and those places need care and protection; not neglect. By naming them honestly, you and your partner can begin to write a story where those vulnerabilities are protected rather than exposed.
- List the layers. Draw three columns (Personal, Relational, External). Write down the vulnerabilities you’ve noticed—depression, avoidance, financial stress, unspoken expectations.
- Ask: “How do we protect this?” For each vulnerability, craft a plan for care.
- Personal: If depression is present, how do we safeguard mental health with routines, therapy, or support?
- Relational: If avoidance is a pattern, how can we both commit to naming issues early, before resentment grows?
- External: If work drains us, how do we protect time for connection that’s non-negotiable?
- Write a new story. Vulnerabilities become part of the relationship’s identity – not as weaknesses, but as places of intentional care.
- “Depression is something we face together. Protecting mental health is part of our love story.”
- “We used to fight the same way, but now we name our cycle and choose new steps.”
- Revisit and adjust. Vulnerabilities shift over time. Regular check-ins allow you to keep reinforcing the foundation so cracks don’t spread again.
Jordan and Alex: Reclaiming the Pen
For Jordan, authoring their story meant more than moving past betrayal – it meant naming their vulnerability of silence and protecting it by voicing their needs. Their new story became: “I honor my worth by speaking directly and making sure my voice is part of this relationship.”
For Alex, it meant owning conflict avoidance and secrecy. Their story became: “I protect this place by practicing honesty and staying engaged, even when it’s uncomfortable. Integrity is how I safeguard both myself and us.”
Together, they began to tell a new story – not one that erased betrayal, but one that acknowledged their past vulnerabilities and committed to protecting them as they moved forward. By guarding the cracks in their foundation, they created room for resilience, repair, and growth.
Authoring Your Story is Freedom
The truth is, you can’t always choose what happens in your life. But you can choose what it means as well as how you will care for the places left vulnerable. That’s the heart of authorship.
When you decide to author your story, you reclaim the right to define yourself and your relationship – not by your worst moments, but by your response. You give your life a new chapter, one built on awareness, strength, and hope.
Because the pen is in your hand. And the story isn’t over yet.
📌 This is the heart of counseling: using counseling to help you name vulnerabilities, protect them, and re-author a future worth living. If you’re ready to reclaim your story, schedule your appointment today.