Being (don’t start a sentence with a gerund, IDIOT) authentically you is a weird, elusive concept. An axiomatic concept. A(n) (adjective) concept. God I hate my writing voice sometimes (always).
I was having a conversation with a high school friend of mine (I mean, we went to high school together, I don’t have any friends currently in high school, that’d be strange) about putting yourself out there, or putting a version of yourself out there.
I think I’ve always been good at putting a version of myself out there. As an only child whose interior world is vast yet outwardly silent, you realize that most of your esteem comes from essentially being a dancing monkey – “he’s smart, did you know he knows all the state capitals?” or “show them that grown-up book you’re reading!” I’m sure for other kids this manifested as actually doing a jig or playing the flute or something.
Meanwhile, so many parts of you aren’t affirmed and they fester in darkness. And they have to, I mean, it’s impolite to have a kid who’s super into obscure Russian comics or ethnic jokes.
The part of you that’s most hidden is the vulnerable part. That you could get a B on a test, be bad at a sport, not know what you want to do when you grow up, play notes wrong. Imagine a world where kids were celebrated for their vulnerabilities equal to their accomplishments – the pharmaceutical industry would be plunged into bankruptcy.
Our course correction for that has been participation trophies which is a homogenization of kids. “You’re all the same and you’re all equal” is just as damaging, because you get mowed down like a tall weed for being different.
Growing up with a fear of judgment for being different leads to putting on a mask, creating a character that’s not the actual you. I’m learning that doing things, however poorly, is really the only thing that matters. Even if you make mistakes, you’re still doing. We’re wired to respect *doers* – they help the tribe succeed as a whole because they’re expending energy at something.
Doing this (writing one of my shitty brain farts once per day) doesn’t matter in the larger sense, but it helps me do one thing. Helps me be accountable. I’m putting myself out there – all of me, not just a version – for the first time.
So you can be you, I’m being me.
