Naked Truth

I began this year with the resolution to live out loud and stop letting fear of rejection, embarrassment, or offending dictate my actions so heavily. For the first few months it was a discouraging thing; it seemed that people might have been right when they said “people never change”. I’ve always been skilled in diplomacy, but partially as a side effect of being overly self-conscious. In the last month, however, I’ve reached out to a bunch of people and really laid it out there, to mostly great results.

As a new contact told me in a recent discussion, sometimes you’ll be surprised by what ruthlessly being yourself can do for your personal relationships. Sure, some people will shy away, but for others your eccentricity will be attractive. Ironically, the less you model your actions around what you think might be acceptable, interesting, or likable the more those three things you can become. In blog writing, as well, too much of my focus has been around “interesting” topics for traffic purposes, which really just came off as trite. Ultimately, I wasn’t really contributing much on a grand scale.

Sometimes acting with your raw instincts is the most efficient, and most powerful. The people that leave along the way should not be fretted over. First, people always come and go from our lives and nothing can change this. Second, if their leaving relates to a reaction to your genuine self, they were never worth having in the first place. The entire relationship in such cases was based on pretenses and ideals.

When I connect with someone and want to send an open or inquisitive email/message, I’ve stopped asking myself how that will be perceived: is it too soon, will I look too eager…etc. I’m curious; I’m going to ask. If that’s weird to them, dismissively wave them away and welcome the next batch of new acquaintances that will invariably come along. The world is large, and there are plenty out there who think you (or me or anyone) is interesting. I simply don’t have time for nay-sayers, haters, or pedantic critics.

For any person undergoing this sort of transformation, certain friends and family will undoubtedly say things like “wow, you’ve changed!” The truth is, however, that nothing fundamental about you has actually changed. The only real change is allowing more of the thoughts, feelings, and desires that have been repressed to fly free. If that’s too edgy for some, that’s their problem. You might say then that rather than becoming a newer, better person you’ve merely mastered being yourself—no longer riding shotgun to a husk that’s walked around wearing your name for years.

I’m sure some that have known me over the years have thought of me as quirky, emotional, and someone that despite such introspection and inner planning tends to fly by the seat of his pants. There are tidbits of that I’d like to work on, but largely I accept that about myself and am not going to apologize for it.

Let’s face it: we’re in a world where social etiquette, politics, and “playing the game” dictate a certain degree of phoniness, strategic conversations with forced smiles, and curbing your tongue. To a certain degree this is being polite or tactful, but few people really walk a fine balance between being likable and being genuine. As such, we’re surrounded by people who don’t say what they mean and don’t mean what they say, and whether or not we get hoodwinked is often a matter of how well we “play the game” or sheer dumb luck. The worst part about wearing a facade is not in how it affects others, but in how it undermines your own growth.

Saying “well, I don’t embellish/white-lie any more than the next guy” doesn’t cut it. The “next guy” is bullshit. If you’re going to hold yourself to a higher standard, you can’t fall back on comparing yourself to the norm for comfort.

In the wise words of Forrest Gump, that’s all I have to say about that.