The Chameleon Contortionist

Authentic [aw-then-tik] adj; having an origin supported by unquestionable evidence; verified; not false or copied; genuine; real.

This definition serves its purpose when being applied to antiques, the deed to a house and the official certificates that come with factory fresh Gibson guitars. What does “authentic” mean when applied to humans and other sentient beings?

Definition revisited:

Authentic [aw-then-tik] adj; representing ones true nature or beliefs; true to oneself or the person identified.

Both uses of the word are qualified as adjectives, and even ‘authenticity’ is a noun, however I see this word as more of a verb, it’s something that a person can embody and take part in - it’s something we do, rather than something we are. Whatever the case, finding my authenticity and then acting upon it, was something I was not capable of doing until recently.

I spent most of my life taking the temperature of the room. Finding out what everyone else wanted, where they were at, how they were feeling - and then I acted accordingly. Once I successfully gauged the emotional whereabouts of others, I then knew what to think, say and do in order to be accepted by them. This cycle of fear-fueled self abandonment began at a very early age and grew out of the feeling of being unwanted, unloved and alone. I was in such great need to be accepted, to be liked and to be loved, that I cast aside most of my own defining characteristics as a means to get those things from others. If I just did and said and acted the way they wanted me to, I would be loved. Accepted. A part of. As a result, it was hard for me to discern my likes and dislikes, to decide which behaviors were acceptable to me and which ones were not. To even choose from a menu what I wanted to have for dinner was like pulling my own teeth, trying to decide.

Morphing into what everyone else wanted me to be at any given moment meant that the ability to remain true to myself was simply out of reach. I was incapable. Limited. To say the least, “know thyself” never really rang true for me in those days.

This inability to be authentic seeped into every area of my life in the most expansive sense of the world, and most notably in my relationships. I chose people to be in my life who did not ultimately align with my views or the way in which I see the world. This took place in romantic relationships, work relationships and friendships. My inability to remain true to myself - my needs, my wants, my boundaries - meant that I allowed myself to be treated in ways that I would never accept today. I accepted unacceptable behavior from partners, bosses, friends and family. I didn’t know what I wanted or needed from those relationships because I didn’t even know who I was, and I was afraid they would leave if I revealed my true, authentic self. The life of a chameleon worked, until it didn’t work anymore.

When I was two weeks shy of turning 26, I had enough. During a particularly tumultuous time in my life, I found myself in enough pain that I finally acquiesced and began to make drastic changes to myself. I started a spiritual practice. I began the process of uncovering, discovering and discarding the false pieces of myself I had fabricated in order to be loved, and started to lovingly relinquish them to my past. I began the ongoing - and seemingly never-ending - process of revealing my true self, to my own self first, and then to others. I journaled. I talked with other people. I got vulnerable. I took myself out on dates - to dinner and a show - alone. I read books. I took chances. I tried new hobbies. I volunteered for causes that were close to my heart and were filled with people I had never met before. I took time to get to know myself, to really dig deep and find out what makes me tick. To find out what my passions are - ones I had denied myself for too long. To find out what matters to me in life and as a human being. To realize what qualities I desire for myself to possess and what qualities I desire in the people I spend my time with. To come home to myself for the first time was exhilarating, terrifying and comforting, all at the same time.

Coming to know myself presented new challenges. Once I became aware of my essence, it also became up to me to set boundaries, to communicate my wants and needs honestly, openly and clearly, and also to finally decide for myself what I’ll be having for dinner. Today, it is much easier to tell when I’m in a situation or relationship that is not in alignment with who I am or what I am comfortable with, and it is also easier to navigate my way out of those scenarios and into ones that do speak to my authentic self. I have left abusive romantic relationships, toxic work relationships and friendships that no longer served me. Through finding myself, I found my self worth. Through finding my self worth, I was guided to relationships and experiences that are in alignment with my purpose.

Most recently I left a career that no longer served me. It had been the longest career I had ever held, and I left to jump into the unknown world of full time artistry and musicianship. For someone who is quite literally paralyzed by the fear of being seen, leaving my comfy 9-6, medical/dental/vision, 401k, desk job, to instead follow a path that requires performing on stage in front of other living, breathing human beings was petrifying. But it had come to a point where the pain of living so far out of alignment with my true self began to outweigh the fear of pursuing my dreams. I had to give myself a chance, or face becoming a “lifer” at the company, and while that may be the lifestyle for some, it meant certain death to me.

To the common viewer, the risk involved in leaving my stable career has remained just that - a risk. It has yet to be seen if this will “pay off” monetarily. I haven’t book a single performance, or gallery showing, or raked in any major revenue from art or music sales. Yet I’ve found that’s not the point, and it most likely never was for me. Leaving a steady job that provided me many comforts but was so far removed from my values and beliefs was not so much of a standard financial risk as much as it was a statement to myself that staying in alignment with who I am and what I stand for is what’s most important to me. That I matter more than a paycheck. That remaining true to myself, under no uncertain terms, has become paramount. And that is the way it should be.