The word authenticity has become a delighted and welcomed buzzword in self-help and spirituality circles alike. But what does authenticity really mean and where does one even start on the quest to feel more at home with themselves?
I had heard the words, just be authentic. Just be yourself. But the more I searched for the right matching pillows in department store home decor sections, I had to admit to myself, I didn’t know how to actually be authentic. I thought maybe it was time to learn and remember how.
In my own search for more than a dictionary definition of authenticity, I started realizing it felt so simple and yet so profound. As adults, the things that brought me joy as a child also made me feel alive as an adult. Yet I realized, something happened as I got older. It started with quiet obligations of saying yes, when I really meant no. Instead of enjoying the sunshine I scrolled through my phone. As if the pure moment of fresh rain or the turns of the season don’t deserve my same devotion. But I began to realize, maybe feeling more present in the small moments is just as important as showing up for a meeting. Perhaps if I’m more authentic with the small moments, I can be authentic for the big ones too?
Feeling authentic wasn’t just about coming back to childlike joy. It also required forgiveness work.
By saying yes to my heart, that meant saying no to old ways of being, old ways of connecting with myself and others.
I realized that just because old stories live in the mind it doesn’t mean they need to live in my current life. Being authentic meant forgiving those old stories. Where I used to say no to my heart instead of saying yes to a way of being that felt more me. Authenticity wasn’t going to come to me presented on a golden platter, it was going to take rewriting old stories in favor of a new more empowering narrative.
When I began forgiving old stories, old habits, and old ways of being, not only did I change, but I noticed my relationships actually changed for the better too. I began to learn that authenticity was more than a fancy buzzword, it was about feeling most me, most at home with myself. That taking up space wasn’t audacious- it was a quiet homecoming to the parts I’d never truly left, only forgotten. Forgiveness helped me see that the old parts were more of a tight jacket I was ready to take off in favor of something new and more profoundly me.
I learned that forgiveness wasn’t about trying to wash away the edgy tender parts in me. That the tender parts were part of a sweet fragrance of feeling whole and at home with myself. My sensitivity wasn’t a weakness, it was a quiet strength. Forgiveness was allowing all of the parts in me to have a place of belonging in my gentle becoming.
Then it finally hit me, the punch line wasn’t that forgiveness was about forgiving to get rid. Forgiveness was about honoring all of me, so the edgy parts could shine and have a seat at the table too.
Authenticity then became a way to honor all of me, and when all the messy parts felt at home, I did too.
I discovered that authenticity isn’t about presenting a shinier part of the worthy parts. Authenticity is recognising all of the parts in me can shine bright. I just needed the right light to look and realize that everything glimmers in the sunlight, even the parts I wanted so desperately to forgive.
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