The ‘authentic self’ - what is it, and does it help to try to find the elusive ‘real me’?

We live in a moment where the concept of ‘authenticity’ shows up just about everywhere. We might debate and denigrate the lack of real, raw and unfiltered versions of people showing up on social media platforms. We might see wall art and online posts (which may or may not be AI generated) encouraging us to just be ourselves. We might offer coaching and facilitation that, in part, is about supporting people to show up or communicate authentically – okay, that last one might only be applicable to a few of us, but it’s what led me to being curious about the concept of being our authentic selves and what that might mean.

I started engaging with a question around what our most authentic selves might be when I described a programme I was delivering to a wonderfully analytical friend. I used a phrase along the lines of ‘supporting people to show up as their authentic selves’, and we debated the meaning and usefulness of the term for a while. I felt sure that there was something meaningful and relatable in the idea of feeling safe and welcome enough in a shared space to be able to communicate openly and honestly, let go of excessive self-monitoring and masking, and feel valued for the unique combination of traits, skills, ideas and experiences we bring to the table. There’s something in this that, for me, is about being able to let go and just be. I’m both lucky enough to know what it feels like to experience this, and unlucky enough to have experienced dangerous environments where it was necessary to adapt, hide or try to proverbially puff myself up to seem intimidating in hopes of staying safe. So, on some level, it’s a question of safety and belonging – who are we when we don’t have to look over our shoulder, or squeeze our square peg self into a round hole in order to be accepted?

My friend agreed about the importance of developing spaces and communities where everyone can experience this feeling of letting go and being themselves. But digging into the concept of what ‘being yourself’ actually means, things got a little more complicated. We’re probably all aware of the ways that we adapt our language, speech patterns, tone, clothing, body language etc. to fit the culture and expectations of the different places and groups we find ourselves in. We might be aware of our brains’ use of specific neurons to subconsciously mirror others’ movements and expressions as a way to fast-track relationship building. That is to say, as humans, we’re interdependent animals who are profoundly influenced by each other. There’s a philosophical question here about whether one of the ways we present is the one that truly represents who we are, with others being adaptations that we’ve developed as a strategy for social cohesion. Is the ‘authentic’ self the one that shows up when nobody’s watching? This seems like an over-simplification - we are continuously changing as we learn from experience, adapt to environment and experience our bodies first growing and then ageing. And even if the unfiltered ‘self’ is the most authentic one, is there value to bringing that part to the front in any given situation? Like so many of the themes I’ve been reflecting on lately, this speaks to a dance between individualist and collectivist approaches – in other words, do the needs of the individual or the needs of the group take precedence here? I have spent many years supporting clients to advocate for themselves, speak up about their needs, be unapologetic about who they are, and (when safe to do so) share how they really feel. These are skills that I believe are essential for everyone, and doubly so for those whose voices and needs have been sidelined, dismissed or weaponised by people and systems driven by a need to keep a tight grip on power and resources. And yet, if we all focus primarily on ensuring our own needs are met and our own authentic responses are honoured in every situation, the balance of considering self and considering others is likely to be skewed. Sometimes, our most authentic response or way of showing up might be unhelpful – perhaps we need a little time to process and make sense of our feelings before sharing them. Or maybe something that would bring comfort, joy or a little more ease to our day is conflicting with someone else’s needs. This seems to suggest a dichotomy between self-interested authenticity and inauthenticity in the name of compromise. I don’t believe that it’s necessary to be less of ourselves in order to consider the needs of others, especially since many of the people I work with tend to have gone in the other direction and developed people pleasing tendencies as a strategy for maintaining belonging. What I am considering is the problem with an individualist construction of the ‘authentic self’ (you know, the one that all of those Instagram ads tell you that you can express more fully if you buy one more supplement). Going to the opposite end of the individual-collective scale, family, community, duty and tradition may be significantly more important than the needs, desires and idIosyncracies of any individual. In this context, the focus on interdependence is clear, but the potential pressure to suppress any aspects of self that don’t fit with cultural expectations can tip over into causing harm. This pressure to suppress aspects of ourselves is something I’m acutely aware of as a queer person. I’m tempted to wander down the rabbit hole of exploration about whether queer identity is a fundamental and fixed aspect of the ‘authentic self’, but perhaps the philosophy is less important than the ways that we make space for, celebrate and create safety for the different aspects of each other’s identities (especially when those identities and experience have been met with oppression). And we might extend this idea to the concept of the ‘authentic self’ in general. We might theorise that each human has an eternal, unchanging soul; that we are the products of a combination of environment and genetic inheritance; that there is no true ‘self’; or that our sense of reality and self is essentially a hallucination. It’s a fascinating and potentially destabilising thread to pull a little, and it’s quite possible that our beliefs and assumptions on this existential level have an influence on how we think and behave. But when it comes to allowing people to show up authentically, what seems more important is the intention and action required to create spaces that feel safe and welcoming enough for people to let their guard down and just be.

What might that look like in practice?

Some examples…

-Providing accessible spaces that offer accommodations and, where possible, pay attention to the sensory environment (can background noise be minimised, can lighting be adjusted, is there a quiet breakout space?)

-Getting into a practice of checking in and finding out how people really are (the boundaries and appropriate level of depth with this is context dependent)

-Developing a practice of encouraging compassionate and appropriate challenge

-Inclusive, diverse and non-tokenistic representations and celebrations of different identities in a space

-Challenging assumptions and thinking critically about how we police and restrict language, appearance/style, body language etc., especially in work contexts – consider who decides which dialects, clothing choices etc. are deemed the most professional

-Explicitly and equally valuing different forms of intelligence and skill sets

-Providing gender neutral spaces, not making assumptions about people’s gender or orientation

-Staying curious and developing awareness of assumptions about others’ experiences (e.g. asking questions that assume a particular family structure, experience of a cultural celebration or identity)

-Developing good negotiation and compromising skills to manage competing needs

-Valuing rapport building, while understanding that different people have different ways of making connections