Authentic

I've been using the phrase 'authentic' a lot lately, if not in the written words I put out, then in my own head, or in my journal pages.  This morning, I went to look up authentic, because while I thought I knew what it meant, maybe I needed a refresher in how it's defined.

Authentic: not false or copied or an imitation; genuine; real.  Worthy of acceptance. True to oneself.

That adds dimension to what I thought it meant...

Anyone else remember the quote, "Fake it 'til you make it!"

Well once upon a time I did fake it.  I was in my 20's and in desperate need of a life makeover.  At the time, I was the typical harried mom of a toddler (a wild one at that) and a primary school aged daughter.  My days back then were a medley of not enough sleep, not enough money, not enough help, and not enough time.  We won't even mention the depths of depression that darkened my days. I had been showing up in the afternoon pick-up line at my daughter's school with uncombed hair, unwashed face, wearing slippers and sweats and a baggy t-shirt.

Then one day I saw the way the teacher at the head of the line looked at me.  And as she looked, I looked, too.  Ugh.  

The next day, I went out and bought makeup, and with the little money left I bought two blouses and two pairs of pants. I became a whole new person.  My little makeover consisted of me showing up every single day with my hair combed and my face done, a freshly starched blouse and pants and neat manicure and pedicure.  I wish I'd considered making me over inside, but alas, my idea of a makeover back then was purely external.  If I could change my appearance, then I'd be changed.  It did change things.  

Remember, people judge by the external, what they can see.  My altered appearance brought me to the attention of a few moms in the school, and I was recruited to the Helping Hands program where I spent the next four years volunteering.  It also led to being asked to be the assistant troop leader for the Brownies.  All of that volunteering led me to be asked to join the Jaycees.  Which led me to going back to school and getting a business degree, which led to heading every major position in our Jaycee chapter including chapter President and then I was placed in a regional role over a period of six years.  It earned me a place in the community we lived in.  And when I graduated from school, it led me to an interview with one of the moms who'd seen my volunteer work at the schools and in the Jaycees and she said, "Yes!  I've seen you work, and I would love to have you on my team, here!"  

All of those 'big' things happened in a five-year span of time, all because I decided to 'fake it' and pretend I was the sort of person who didn't lie in bed hiding under the covers by day and roaming a dark house at night, who wasn't battling suicidal thoughts and depression.

Never let it be said that 'faking it' isn't worthwhile.  It can lead to a lot of good things.  

But authenticity...Well it goes beyond faking it until you make it. It means that the inside things are the true ones, and the outer appearance is only a portion of how I choose to express myself.  Until the past few months I'd never used the word authentic, or even thought about it, but suddenly that word has importance in my life.  Which has brought me to this morning's revelations:

1.  I'm only just learning who/what the authentic me is once more.  There are things I know about myself.  I am sensitive and caring, nurturing, honest but not blunt, tactful, polite, respectful.  I think deeply. I feel deeply.  I am smart but can be a bit spacey at times. 

I love swimming, reading, music of all sorts, alone time, am creative, and I love to study.  The natural world and its beauty fill me with awe. I know more about subjects that no one will ever question me about, because I love stuffing knowledge into my brain.  I write because I must.  I love flowers.  

And since I'm trying to be 'authentic' I'll own my faults, too.  They are very real.

Sometimes I slip into the fail-safe I created in that decade of heavy things from menopause to life crises in doing far too much work and paying little attention to what my real needs/feelings are or what I need to do towards self-care.   Fight or flight is always my first response to the harder things.

I seldom ask for help, directly nor indirectly.  I'll allow myself to drown before I'll ask.  And if no one notices, thank goodness one or two in my family DO, and tosses me a life ring, I'll start down for the third time before I'll throw up a hand as a sign that I'm beyond the struggle.

I don't express anger very well.  Years of conditioning taught me that admitting to anger always led to someone hurting me, not physically, but with intention just the same and often as not blaming me for being hurt.  I'm learning to express my anger and then choosing if I'm going to fight back or walk away if someone tries to turn it on me instead of owning their part in hurting me to the point of being angry.  My choice to fight depends on how important the relationship is to me.  

I often don't let others work out their own problems but run to the rescue, unasked, and then get hurt when they don't respond in kind during times when I could use a helping hand or a listening ear.  

I'm far too quick to say yes to every request for help regardless of what my own schedule or mental health issues might be at the time.  Always to my detriment!  If I say 'No' you might not like me anymore.

2. Authentic unfortunately includes the ordinary daily stuff as well as all the fun things I want to be doing.  I kept telling Caleb this summer, "We do what we have to do in order to do the things we want to do."

This morning the last thing I wanted to do was clean and tend to my household.  I much preferred the idea of reading, studying, playing the piano and writing.   

But 'real' life is real and so was that unmade bed and those dirty dishes.  

Letting my house turn into chaos is not being authentic.  Providing myself with a clean, neat and pretty background in which to lead my life IS nurturing the authentic me who thrives on peace in my surroundings.

3.  I am not going to be authentic 100% of the time...  I'm still discovering who the 'real, genuine' me is.  Goodness I've only just scratched the surface.

For one thing, it's taken me this darn long to sort out the blackened past and toss the waste.  For another thing, I'm NOT who I was at 29 when I 'faked it until I made it'.  I'm not who I was when I feel deeply in love with my husband.  I'm not who I was as a mom of 5.  These past ten years I hardly know who I was at any given point with all the trauma, the drama, the dying hormones, the multiples of life situations that arose to be dealt with.  I'm not who I was at 65.  I'd pretty much given up if you want to know the facts.  Given up dreams, ambition, caring who I'd been or where I was heading in this part of my life.

It's only been in this year of 2025 that I've begun to realize that there is still a real live person here in this skin of mine and life is definitely NOT over.

I can't dress 100% authentically because I refuse to go out to buy a whole new wardrobe.  As I work my way through my current clothing, I'll be true to my authentic self in future purchases.

I can't be authentic in all of my feelings because some of them I'm still having to poke and prod to determine just what they are and if they truly belong to me or if they are carry overs from old wounds that have no purpose in this new era of living.

I'm still discovering what I like/need and what I don't like.  And that's okay.  

4.  This isn't a test.  I don't lose points for wrong answers.  And that is the simple truth.  It's okay if I get something wrong.  I just need to make sure and correct it once I recognize that it's not right for me. 

Not exactly a test of authenticity but sort of at the same time.  Everyone everywhere goes pumpkin crazy about this time of year.  Pumpkin spice this and that and a hundred things, pumpkin candles, pumpkin pie, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin cake, pumpkin fudge, pumpkin rolls, pumpkin cornbread, pumpkin soup....  I've tried and tried and tried and I've finally come to the conclusion that pumpkin mostly just lives me feeling like I'm being punished and that I very much want something else.  I'll have Pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving only because John likes it.  I'll have a slice and enjoy it, but then I'm done for the year.  

Just because there's a movement behind it (and who, please tell me, who?) cornered the market on Pumpkin Spice and has decided to make a killing there each fall?

My conclusion is that I authentically do not care for pumpkin. 

Certain styles are fun to try.  I tried hard to turn my wardrobe into a classic one.  I bought the right shoes, the right blouses, etc.  I finally recognized that that is NOT me.  I am not well suited in body shape nor lifestyle to a classic fit in anything.  I am a flowy, feminine dress sort of person.  I am a stack of bangles, hoop earrings and a pile of necklaces sort of person.  I like ruffles and string ties on my blouses.  I like sandals.  And scarves and shawls and brooches.  I'm a sort of gypsy.  That's just who I am and that's when I feel most authentic in my clothing.

I'm going to stop thinking I've failed when something just doesn't work.  Okay so the white blouse (and the black and the brown and white stripe) go into the donate pile.  I'll find more blouses that are my style, and I'll wear them for years.  

5.  Authenticity means I'm following my heart.  Being authentic for me means I embrace what I love, like, feel strongly enough about to fight for, work for and live for.  It can apply to my lifestyle, my personal style, my politics, my reading choices, my home decor.  It's all encompassing.

It doesn't mean I'm stuck in a rut or unable to change my mind.  It just means that in all I do, I put it to the test to be sure that it truly fits me.