According to Brown's research, the antidote to crippling shame is vulnerability. We tend to think of vulnerability as weakness; but in fact, she argues, it is the highest form of courage. To admit fear and pain, to reach out to others for help, to quiet the "gremlins" that tell us to keep our mouths shut and soldier on: this is how we become engaged, make human connections, and live "wholeheartedly." And, according to Brown's research, the processes and effects of shame and vulnerability are highly gendered.

I was able to have a phone conversation with Brown, and I asked her to explain how shame and vulnerability manifest differently for men and women. She told me that "messages of shame are organized around gender." For women, she said, there are whole constellations of often contradictory expectations that, if not met, are sources of shame. But for men, the overarching message is that any weakness is shameful. And since vulnerability is often perceived as weakness, it is especially risky for men to practice vulnerability.

What Brown also discovered in the course of her research is that, contrary to her early assumptions, men's shame is not primarily inflicted by other men. Instead, it is the women in their lives who tend to be repelled when men show the chinks in their armor.

"Most women pledge allegiance to this idea that women can explore their emotions, break down, fall apart—and it's healthy," Brown said. "But guys are not allowed to fall apart." Ironically, she explained, men are often pressured to open up and talk about their feelings, and they are criticized for being emotionally walled-off; but if they get too real, they are met with revulsion. She recalled the first time she realized that she had been complicit in the shaming: "Holy Shit!" she said. "I am the patriarchy!"

Given the behaviors that men develop around the messages we receive about avoiding being perceived as weak, I wanted to know what kind of practical things we could do to be vulnerable in a positive way. Brown suggested that there are three main practices men, in particular, need to engage in. The first is asking for help. The second is setting boundaries; for example, not taking on work or activities that you don't want to do. And the third is apologizing and "owning it" when you are wrong.

I mentally ticked through this list. Asking for help? Check. There was a time when I would risk life and limb on the construction site rather than ask for help, and I followed the same policy with abstract problems as well; but at some point, I can't say when, I realized that it was easier to admit that I couldn't do it myself. Saying no? That's tricky, but has become much easier to embrace than asking for help, especially since I now have kids as a reason to not spread myself too thin. As far as apologizing and owning my mistakes—I'm working on that.