stop trying to be yourself
For a long time, I was obsessed with the idea of authenticity. One of my core fears was losing my sense of who I was and settling for a boring & mediocre version of myself. I was afraid of becoming a curated image, defined by other people.
From that fear, I saw the world as a place of constant conflict between conformity and authenticity. People were trying to make me someone I wasn’t, and my task was to stay as the “real” me. It was an exhausting process, a constant analysis of “is this me or is this not-me”, but it felt necessary. It felt like the right way to live.
Now, however, the “real me” doesn’t matter so much anymore. I rarely think about authenticity or about “who I really am”. I don’t analyze whether a decision is true to myself. Despite abandoning that frame, the unique aspects of my personality are flourishing more than ever.
Authenticity can be a trap. As a concept, it points towards something useful, some experience that we want to hold onto, but it’s all too easy to get bound up in it. The idea of authenticity can quickly become rigid, holding us in place, preventing us from transforming and evolving in the way we naturally do. Frankly, I think most people would be better off discarding authenticity entirely.
To be fully authentic promises a certain reward, to move through the world in a certain way and to be welcomed and loved for doing so. To not be authentic is to invoke shame, as if we’ve committed a crime against nature, or perhaps against ourselves. But is that true? What is that reward that we’re actually seeking? Can we identify the supposed fruits of authenticity and pursue them more directly?
When we stop trying to be our authentic selves, what happens?
authenticity as inner peace
Let’s start by asking the big question: what is authenticity?
Sometimes it seems to be about outcomes: if I am authentic in all areas of my life, people will trust me, and I’ll create a reality that aligns with who I am. If I’m inauthentic, in turn, I’ll end up living a life that doesn’t feel true to me.
That all seems useful, if a bit vague. But then there’s the inner experience of authenticity, about how it promises to make me feel. It’s implied that if I’m authentic, I’ll feel more confident and more grounded. There’s a sense of inner peace that comes with the idea of living an authentic life, a sense of serenity.
But where does that peace come from? Is this just a circular definition? Is it “I know I’m being authentic when I feel at peace, and I feel at peace when I know I’m being authentic”? There’s nothing wrong with that framing, but it leaves us a little in the dark about the practicalities. If I don’t feel at peace, how do I start being more authentic?
We can try a simple answer: follow that sense of peace, if you can find it. Do things that give you a greater sense of serenity and ease, and avoid things that interfere with it. Amplify the feelings you want more of.
That is a beautiful way to live, and in this model, authenticity is just a signpost pointing towards “inner peace”, which I’m more than happy to accept.
But what about when we want to play a certain role? What happens when we want to evolve, in a way that disturbs our peace? Is that still “authentic”?”
authenticity in transformation
If I’m someone who rarely excercises, and I decide to start going to the gym, am I being authentic?
If I strive to be more like my role models, emulating how they make decisions, am I being authentic?
If I decide to shift and change and grow in a way that feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable, in a way that feels decidedly un-peaceful, am I being authentic?
Inauthenticity is usually associated with “playing a role”, performing a certain part in certain contexts (aka a particular social situation). But sometimes we want to play a role. We want to be the gracious host, even if we’re not used to welcoming people into our home. We want to be the empathetic listener, even if our attention is wandering elsewhere. We want to strive to be more than we are.
And in the short term, we might lose that inner peace. So is it authentic? We could argue no, in that it feels dislocating, but also yes, in that it’s aligned with who we desire to be.
I don’t know about you, but who I desire to be is always in flux. As Gabi Abrão says, “I am constantly shapeshifting, adapting, and evolving”. Where does authenticity fit into that process?
authenticity and communion
We shift who we are in different social contexts because that’s who we are: we are communal beings. Our identity isn’t fixed within ourselves but created in collaboration with others. Our selves are a product of our relationships.
To deny that shapeshifting ability is to deny our human nature. The quest for authenticity can become a form of self-coercion.
We can try to lock ourselves up and fix ourselves in time and space and say “this is who I am” but it’s a fight against being responsive to other human beings. I want to play one role for one person, as that person needs it, and another for someone else.
To put it more dramatically: I want my life to be about serving others, and I want my identity to be a tool that helps me do that. And I believe there is a way to do that without sacrificing the fruits of authenticity, without abandoning the inner peace and resonance that we gain from doing what aligns with us.
The best solution that I can think of is to simply let go of the idea of the authentic self.
self-creation
The metaphor that comes to mind is video game character creation. When we’re playing a role-playing game, we create a character that feels good to inhabit, and we shape that character via a feedback loop: what feels fun to us and what helps us progress in the game.
Those goals are intertwined: it’s not fun if we’re not able to have success within the game, and it’s also not fun if we’re just playing to win. It’s the conversation between those goals that make them interesting: how can we win in a way that also resonates with what feels beautiful to us?
In my relationships, I want to “succeed” in the sense that I want to connect with others, I want to feel belonging, I want to fit in. But I want to do it in a way that feels nourishing to me.
This is how we transcend authenticity: not by denying our desire to shape ourselves to the context around us, but by focusing instead on how that process feels. Does it lead to the relationships I want while feeling energizing to my soul?
We thus balance outer service with inner peace. As I follow those two desires, as they spiral around each other, they both shift and change. The path evolves before me.
following the path
All throughout my life, I desire to inhabit a certain way of being, a way of moving through the world. This encompasses my energy, my actions, my relationships.
My task is to simply adhere to that as much as possible, and notice how it makes me feel. When I lose that feeling of peace and calm and presence, my task is to find it again.
Over time, that way of being will shift and transform, and I have full permission to follow it. My character evolves, and my vision of it evolves with it.
I am still self-led, self-choosing, but I’m totally free: all paths are open to me, beyond some rigid form of self-image. I allow myself to be shaped by my relationships as I shape them in turn.
Authenticity may be useful as a signpost, but it’s not the ultimate destination. The ultimate designation is to embrace our selfhood as a fluid construct, as something to play with and experiment with, as an act of creation, as a way to serve others, and as a way to enjoy the beauty of the world.
Our greatest blessing is that we are free to create ourselves; my mission is to live in a way that celebrates that freedom.
With love & appreciation,
Scott