Authenticity is important to me. I haven’t been perfect at it, but I’ve always valued it in myself and others. I can pretty much recall the situations in which I’ve been deceptive, misaligned with truth, because it makes me uncomfortable. I can sense it in others as well. There was a time in my early adult life that I excused some deceptions that didn’t seem too offensive, because I could rationalize some good motivations behind my decisions. But some things met at a crossroads in my mid-30s—probably a pretty typical stage of growing up—and I shed a lot of unhealthy stuff. I don’t know that most people would have noticed. It wasn’t what many would call egregious. Not even close. But I wanted to be better. I’ve always loved to learn, and I couldn’t truly learn without also changing. The change seemed to simultaneously seep deep into and flow from deep inside me. 

Since that time, the checks and balances come swiftly. 

Again, not perfect. Authenticity never is.

But here’s one thing authenticity always is: vulnerable. I’m okay with that—usually. Vulnerability isn’t a declaration of some sort of protective status because of effort. It comes with risk. It’s a position of humility. It gives people access, and we need to always infuse it with wisdom. Not all people get all access. But all people can still get authenticity with the access they get.

I was recently talking to someone I’d just met and would come in contact with often. It was important I established healthy boundaries and rapport from the beginning, but I knew she was guarded as best—and at worst, I suspected she had ulterior motives as she asked me specific questions. And it is difficult to remain consistently authentic when dealing with questionable motives. While I’m oversimplifying a bit, I had two options: I could take a step back, analyze everything she said, and filter my responses with suspicion, or I could be true to myself and respond out of humble authenticity with wise apprehension and caution.

At times, I sensed she was relaxed and genuinely inquisitive and engaged, but other times, her gaze narrowed and her shoulders tensed, prompting me to take a breath before responding. My response might not have differed much, but my alertness did. It’s up to her how she uses the interaction. It’s up to me to be my authentic self—among the many valued qualities of kindness, patience, gentleness. Can it backfire? Perhaps it can be construed that way. But can it really if we find peace amidst truth?

I’m constantly growing and am challenged to re-evaluate the depth of my authenticity and my willingness to rest in it. What about you?

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