On (in)authenticity
Be less polite, invite awkwardness, release writing rules & show up. Or not.
Oxford Learner’s Dictionary
Inauthentic, adjective: not what somebody claims it is; that you cannot believe or rely on
The idea of inauthenticity often brings to mind politeness at any cost. It brings to mind the myriad “anti-aging” potions and pills. It feeds on comparison and competition. It reminds me of myself as a pre-teen, going through great pains to style my hair like Kelly on 90210 (my hair was thick, curly, and red; hers was thin, straight, and blonde - it didn’t work so well).
In writing, I believe that a lack of authenticity arises in the writer who cuts corners or perpetually struggles to sound like someone else at the cost of their own voice and story. I think of work that is safe.
Inauthenticity in action = hiding.
But what about authenticity in action? How do we stop hiding? How do we own our own stories and find our own voices on the page and in life?
In both my leadership and writing research, I’ve found that we can find ways to show up in ways that may not be what’s expected or easy and still do so with resolve. The ability to be authentic, in my experience (and readings), can be supported with two (2) practices.
Understand that showing up authentically just means trusting ourselves, and remembering why we should trust ourselves.
Trust of self can be summoned by remembering times we’ve done it before. Call to mind a time you showed up and felt completely yourself and in alignment. Maybe those were times you were writing and the pen felt like it was just moving without effort. Or times you just felt comfortable enough to be fully yourself in person.
Take a few moments here and there to remember how it felt to show up like this, and tap those feelings . . . memorizing (imprinting) and revisiting them. And while you’re at it, study those times. Where were you? What do you think led to the ease, the flow?
For me, these times show up when I feel truly invested.
For instance, if I’ve been churning on a story for a few weeks, then I finally sit down to write it, the thing flows. If I sit down with the thought “I’m going to write a story because I should,” it doesn’t work so well.
Another example is when I sit with a prompt and just begin to play, remaining open to what comes. If I do, something authentic comes. If I try to force, not so much.
If I’m writing an essay, and I’m truly invested in the topic, or open to the receptive creative process, the essay writes itself. If I’m writing about something just to be trendy (well, I don’t, obv.), then it’s stilted.
And in person, well, if you know me at all, I’m incapable of being inauthentic. My face is expressive, and I simply start daydreaming if I feel I’m in an environment that’s not productive.
Again, the point is trust … trusting yourself means remembering times when you have shown up authentically. Think about it. Capture a few moments. Recount them. Write them down.
Reconnect (and reevaluate) what you value in any given project or situation.
Education, creativity, free expression, inclusivity, joy, humor, friendship, honesty, equity, health … whatever your top values are right now, they’re helpful when thinking about any given project or situation.
How does this project speak to your values? Does it need to?
How are you living in accordance or out of sync with these values? (Your true values, not what you think you should value.)
I made a little meditation about examining authenticity that follows the above rationale. But my best advice, in a nutshell, goes like this:
You don’t have to write every day. You don’t have to be productive every day.
You don’t have to write what anyone else writes.
You don’t have to write what’s politically correct or socially trendy.
You have to write when and what you are called to.
Show up consistently.
Be kind, be exploratory, and the rest will work itself out.
If we stay open, we stay in this state of self-trust and exploration, we sure can find the beauty in this crazy life.
xoxo Jen
Meditation for paid subscribers here: Showing up with Authenticity
There is a lyric in a song by the New Radicals: "We got the dreamers disease, age fourteen, they got you down on your knees. So polite, we're busy still saying please." I always think of those words as an nod to the bane of over-politeness, about finding your own voice as society pushes us all into sameness. Thanks for your thoughts, Jen. Write without sameness.