Authenticity

Behind every windshield, pair of sunglasses, and social media profile there is, usually, a human being—someone who eats, sleeps, and poops just like you and I. They long for meaning and connection, but often lose sight of it. They say things they don't mean, and do things they know are wrong. They feel triumph and struggle, they laugh and they cry. They were once babies, and, someday, they will die.

Humans are similar creatures, yet our differences often overshadow our commonalities. Our tribal psychology magnifies minor discrepancies, treating them as more significant than they are. We struggle to empathize with others and, consequently, struggle to imagine anyone empathizing with us. As social as humans are, we seem wired for isolation.

But this couldn't be further from the truth—our experiences are not unique to us. Billions of people have walked this earth, and billions more will follow. Is it reasonable to assume no one has ever stood in your shoes? It's comical really—to imagine that we, of all people, were chosen to have an experience no one else ever has or will. No pain or pleasure is truly novel. Take comfort in the community of souls who feel and have felt exactly as you do.

The most powerful voices, and perhaps the most contented people, are those who recognize their connection to humanity and are willing to share their stories. They are sincere, vulnerable, authentic voices, no different than yours or mine, only louder. They show their scars and feathers alike, with the understanding that they are not alone... and they never are. Moments of vulnerability can bring relief, but also revelation. Listeners often immediately relate to a story, relieved they aren't the only ones who feel a certain way. But words can be shocking too, surfacing truths about our own experience we didn't know were there.

Most of us, however, fail to recognize our company on a consistent basis. We lower our voices in fear of judgment, lie to others out of shame, and deceive ourselves in hope that our fictions become reality. We alter our narratives to fit an artificial status quo constructed of collective insecurity. We tell stories we think people want to hear—the stories we wish were true, but aren't.

No one wants to hear about your perfect life though. All people are flawed, and our idiosyncracies aren't as unique as we imagine. Own every part of your story, because to dismiss it is to dismiss countless others too. Quit denying yourself the human experience, and quit neglecting others having the same one. Being true to yourself is the greatest act you can take in defense of loneliness.