This past week felt like swimming upstream—a tiring endeavor. Standing firm in my beliefs, especially when the easier route is to conform, can be exhausting. Owning my quirky truths, with the risk of exposure, makes me feel vulnerable. Yet, pretending to be someone I’m not is even more draining.
It’s not groundbreaking to discuss the struggle for authenticity, and I know I’m not the first to tackle this dilemma. What I find particularly intriguing is how many women I know take so long to fully embrace themselves. We often bury our quirks under layers of “acceptability” in order to be more likable. It takes real courage to lay all the pieces bare for judgment, especially when we’ve been conditioned to prioritize others’ opinions. Chipping away at that can take decades.
When we voice our beliefs with conviction, it can unsettle those around us. They might feel threatened or reflective, grappling with their own journeys toward authenticity. I understand this reaction, even if I don’t always like it. I love cheering each other on as we slowly de-mask, shedding layers of bullshit in favor of being unapologetically true to ourselves. The willingness with which most of us do this now is delightful and refreshing. What a relief to be middle-aged.
Another current I’ve been navigating is the realization that what brings joy or fun to others sometimes doesn’t resonate with me. The act of feigning enjoyment is draining. Why do we do this? Many of us were raised to please others, maintain harmony, and avoid rocking the boat. I can hear the younger generation scoffing in disbelief as I write this, yet for those of us nearing 60, we’re still working to shed the remnants of those antiquated cultural lessons absorbed in the late 70s and 80s.
Arranging my own versions of fun may draw some mocking from others, but I’m learning to care less and less. Honoring my own likes and dislikes feels so good and so right, after a lifetime of placating others’ preferences. Accepting my introverted quirks will be a lifelong journey I navigate, especially given the way my super extroverted husband careens through life, scooping up ten new friends per week. Thankfully, my loud, funny husband and my wonderful support system of dear friends cheer me on, encouraging me to stay true to myself at all times. I am honestly the only person who stands in my own way. Lovely, right?
