The Last 20%: What a Backpacking Trip Taught Me About Vulnerability

The last 20% - where real connection happens.

In 2016, I found myself deep in the Rocky Mountains, carrying a 50-pound pack, sleeping on the ground, and hoping my deodorant-free presence wouldn’t attract wildlife—or drive away the ten other men hiking alongside me. At first glance, it might have looked like a typical wilderness adventure. But this trip wasn’t about testing our survival skills. It was about something far more difficult—and far more transformative: learning to be fully honest with ourselves and one another.

The purpose of the trip was to deepen our faith and strengthen our relationships. As part of that, each man was invited to share his life story—not the polished, résumé-style version, but the version that included what our guides called “the last 20%.” These are the parts we usually keep to ourselves: the shame, the failures, the doubts, and the fears we carry—worried they’ll lead to judgment or rejection. The parts that feel risky to reveal, even to our closest friends.

After four days of hiking, shared meals, and some truly questionable sleeping arrangements, something remarkable happened. The masks began to fall away. One by one, the men began to share openly—about childhood wounds, broken relationships, addictions, regrets, and the pressures they felt to hold it all together. There were quiet moments, tearful moments, and even some moments of deep belly laughter. For many, it was the first time they had felt fully seen—and still accepted.

In my work as a counselor, I see a similar pattern all the time. High-functioning men who appear to be doing everything right—showing up at work, providing for their families, staying busy—but who feel emotionally detached, isolated, or exhausted. We’ve been conditioned to believe that strength means having it all together. That vulnerability is a weakness to avoid. But the truth is, emotional isolation is what really wears us down. It keeps us from being present in our relationships, from living with integrity, and from aligning with the values we say matter most.

That trip reminded me—and all of us—that vulnerability isn’t the enemy of strength. It’s often the birthplace of it. When expressed with wisdom and intention, vulnerability becomes a doorway to growth, freedom, and genuine connection.

In therapy, I often hear echoes of that last 20%. Not because men are broken, but because they’re human. Because they’re tired of pretending everything is fine. Therapy becomes the space where it’s safe to take the mask off, to speak what’s true, and to begin to reconnect—with ourselves, with others, with God, and with a deeper sense of purpose.

The beautiful irony? When one man is willing to tell the truth—the hard, unfiltered truth—it gives others permission to do the same. That’s where change begins. That’s how meaningful connection is built. That’s how faith moves from head to heart.

So here’s my invitation: Don’t wait for a wilderness retreat—or a breakdown—to open up. Seek out spaces where performance gives way to presence, and where strength includes the courage to be known. Whether it’s with a therapist, a trusted friend, or a group of men willing to show up for each other, you don’t have to carry it all alone.

Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is share the last 20%.