
Daniela Linda : 9 December 2025 14:18
We’re connected, connected to everything, hyperconnected. Our professional and social lives are dictated by extremely tight deadlines and a constantly rising bar; we must push. We tacitly demand that we be perfect machines, infallible systems, active, proactive, always alert.
But wait a moment: human beings are not machines and, without a doubt, are not perfect.
In an operating system or complex software, we know that, at some point, a system bug or structural weakness will likely be found and immediate action will be taken to repair or prevent damage or potential damage.
So why do we accept fragility in the systems we create, but reject fragility in the human beings we are?
We have deep vulnerabilities, wounds within us, for which we feel ashamed and which we desperately try to hide. Why? Being vulnerable exposes us to the fear of not being enough, to the private and silent shame of being imperfect. Imperfection, these days, seems unthinkable, unacceptable. We want perfect lives, perfect careers, perfect people.
The word vulnerability comes from the Latin vulnus , which means, precisely, wound. Vulnerability is, by definition, the state of being susceptible to injury, the fear of being offended or hurt.
Out of fear of this wound, we adopt a concealment strategy: we hide the emotional wound, hoping it will never be discovered.
This strategy isn’t a defense, but merely a risk-delay. The mask of perfection we wear doesn’t make us stronger; it makes us more rigid and, therefore, more fragile in the face of unexpected failure, however small or large.
The need to mask our fragilities forces us to live in inauthenticity, a concept masterfully explored by Luigi Pirandello in “One, No One, One Hundred Thousand.”
We put on masks to fit what others expect of us: the perfect colleague, the infallible boss, the impeccable parent. And we change masks depending on the role we play and the person we’re dealing with. No one knows who we really are.
Pirandello writes in his novel:
“You will learn at your own expense that on the long journey of life you will encounter many masks and few faces.”
Vitangelo Moscarda, known as Gegè, the protagonist, experiences an identity crisis when he discovers that the self-image he has (One) is drastically different from the myriad of images that others project onto him (One Hundred Thousand).
The One is therefore the identity we believe we have, our system of values and our deepest meaning.
The Hundred Thousand are the masks we wear based on context and other people’s expectations. Each mask is an attempt to protect the One from the potential wound of judgment.
None more so than the discovery that our “true self” is almost unattainable or nonexistent beneath the layers of masks, leading to a profound identity crisis. “Who am I, beyond my professional and social role?” It is the breaking point, the failure of the mask system, where the cost of maintaining the pretense exceeds our vital energy, leading us to a profound sense of emptiness, of bewilderment.
This misalignment is the human equivalent of a system operating on values that are not aligned with its core purpose.
Maintaining masks requires an enormous expenditure of cognitive and emotional energy, exponentially increasing the risk of burnout and chronic fatigue.
The mask, rigid and fragile, is not a shield but our greatest area of vulnerability. A small failure or criticism can shatter it completely, causing a collapse of our inner balance.
Teams and relationships thrive on trust. A leader who constantly wears a mask doesn’t inspire genuine trust, limiting open collaboration and innovation within the team.
The One can evolve and rewrite itself. Human beings possess something that even the most advanced Artificial Intelligence, with all its technology and extraordinary evolution, will never be able to replicate: we have the courage and creativity to fully understand how we function and, therefore, how we can transform and evolve. Each in our own way, at our own pace and on our own path.
This capacity for transformation is our unique ability, the true essence of the One that escapes the rigidity of masks. Where a computer system, when it encounters a bug, must rush to fix it with an external patch , humans possess the drive within, that spark that is a powerful combination of courage and creativity that can trigger a process of internal transformation.
American researcher Brené Brown has spent years studying this phenomenon, discovering that vulnerability is not a flaw to be eliminated, but the birthplace of courage, creativity, and connection.
“Vulnerability isn’t about winning or losing. It’s about having the courage to show up and be seen when you have no control over the outcome.” – Brené Brown
If triggered, this process of acceptance leads to the elimination of shame in the face of vulnerability. It becomes, just as Brené Brown says, the acceptance of risk, without guarantees of results, but with the freedom to escape the trap of perfectionism that imprisons us in the perception of not being enough.
Facing our vulnerabilities is challenging. Asking ourselves profound questions is uncomfortable, can be destabilizing, and can even throw into turmoil the value system we thought was impregnable.
This is where coaching comes in: in the midst of chaos, when the bank could fall apart and the Nobody ‘s identity crisis makes itself felt.
Coaching is a process of protected exploration of the person-system. Working with a coach means exploring yourself and your potential in a safe environment, where confidentiality is a top priority and where you can expose yourself without the fear of external judgment that led us to wear the Hundred Thousand Masks.
The coach doesn’t provide the solution, but asks those uncomfortable and targeted questions, one at a time, that help the individual perform their own internal risk assessment and arrive at a personal action plan. The coach can support you with questions that shed light on things you’ve never said out loud or what you haven’t yet thought about.
For example: what would happen if tomorrow morning the mask of the perfect colleague fell away? Or who or what could help you feel less pressured when a problem lands in your inbox? Or, even more profoundly, what value are you sacrificing to maintain the illusion of perfection?
Imagine an environment that allows for controlled exposure, a place to step out of the trap of perfectionism, embracing uncertainty and emotional risk, where language is free, the mind is free, and judgment is completely absent.
Does it take courage to take this step? Absolutely. Courage, as Brené Brown teaches us, is not the absence of fear, but the choice to expose oneself despite uncertainty. The potential gain is freedom from the constant need for approval and the possibility of authenticity. The process always begins with a small, courageous step. This is the true power of applied vulnerability.
Professionals know well that the most secure system is not one without bugs, but one that is constantly monitored and quickly updated.
Similarly, the most resilient human beings and organizations are not those who hide their flaws, but those who are able to proactively accept, expose, and manage their vulnerabilities.
When a leader, or a colleague, demonstrates the courage to be vulnerable, it triggers a powerful mechanism of mutual trust within the team—in fact, that’s when they become a Team. When those in that work group intervene where they see a vulnerability, an exposed flank, and offer support, they become allies, walking together toward the same goal. This is a Team.
If those one hundred thousand masks became one hundred thousand allies who see and accept the same person, there would be an enormous saving of energy and a growth in collective resilience, like a support network.
Accepted and exposed vulnerability is a path to innovation where creativity can only flourish.
Take off the mask!
In this coldly hyperconnected world, let’s really try to connect, first with ourselves and then with others, aware that perfection doesn’t exist, that our courage and creativity are contagious, our way of communicating is contagious.
Let’s try?
Daniela Linda