Authenticity

When Others Don’t Recognize Your Growth

Some people tend to project a lack of authenticity onto others when the version of who that person is now no longer fits the idea of who they used to be.

To me, that usually means the projector is unwilling to accept that someone else has evolved or outgrown them. If they do recognize it, it often exposes how they may be resisting their own growth and transformation. It also shows how deeply we fear the discomfort that real change requires — growth that extends beyond the surface. You can often tell by how forcefully they cast their projections.

This isn’t limited to our personal lives. The same dynamic plays out with creators, politicians, and anyone in the public eye.

And the higher the profile of the person, the less likely they are to be able to safely share their candid opinions or authentic experiences without fear of backlash or misinterpretation. The more visible you become, the more others project onto you — often confusing their expectations for your truth.

Interestingly, the same reasons people in our daily lives get upset by our growth and change are the same reasons some public figures stay stuck — they feel trapped under the weight of others’ expectations, confined by the spotlight they once sought. When authenticity threatens familiarity, people often choose comfort over truth — whether they’re on a global stage or simply part of our everyday world.

The Truth Behind the Highlight Reel

When I consume content online, I remind myself that what I’m seeing is rarely the full picture of who someone is. In most cases, it’s a crafted persona — sometimes mixed with real authenticity.

At times, a person might be fully genuine in a moment, but without access to them to ask deeper questions, I know I’m only witnessing a snapshot of their truth. They may still be authentic in that moment, even if it’s incomplete. Others may intentionally present a curated version of themselves in some settings and a more genuine one in others.

This is why it’s so important to remember: things are not always as they seem.

And this doesn’t only apply to public figures — it applies to people in our daily lives too. Depending on someone’s self-awareness and their lived experiences, they may have learned early on that showing up as their true self — speaking their real thoughts, expressing their real feelings — could threaten the status quo.

In unsafe environments, that kind of honesty can have consequences. Whether it’s within family structures, schools, workplaces or society at large, many of us learn to hide parts of ourselves just to feel safe.

From Shadow to Self

I can only speak for myself, but in the past — when I was still working through my shadows, drinking, using drugs, and engaging in behaviors that didn’t truly align with me — people who knew me then might have believed that was my most authentic self.

In some ways, it was. At least to the degree that I knew and accepted myself at that time. So I understand why the person I am now might feel unrecognizable to those who once knew me.

I’ve always been this version of myself at my core — but my environments and experiences forced me to play roles, to hide parts of who I was for safekeeping.

That’s one of the great paradoxes of this journey: the light within us never disappears, but when surrounded by darkness, that light can seem inauthentic. So we adapt. We harden. We build armor to survive in extreme conditions.

Through those battles, I learned who I truly want to be, how I want to impact the world, and what healing and rewiring I needed to do to stop being a hurt person hurting people.

That path — staying hurt, lashing out — is always easier. It requires no change, no accountability, no real introspection. It keeps the ego comfortable, but it’s also a deeply disempowered way to live.

Choosing Healing Over Performance

The phrase “hurt people hurt people” implies that because we were hurt, it’s natural to repeat the same pain onto others — as if that’s how we’ll be understood or loved.

But that’s not love in its fullest form. It’s more like saying, “I feel your pain; I see you in it.”

Being seen can feel like being loved. And when love is scarce, we’ll take whatever form of recognition we can get — even if it means performing.

For a long time, I mistook performance for authenticity. When you grow up in an extreme environment, and performing grants you temporary safety or acceptance, you perform. Eventually, you start to believe the image you created to survive.

For me, the hardest part of reclaiming my authentic self has been peeling back those layers — the survival mechanisms, the shrinking, the silencing, the masking. Differentiating between my coping patterns and my soul has been excruciating.

That pain led to self-medication — the substances, the distractions, the constant search for something to fill the void. I tried nearly everything within reach. But each attempt came with lessons.

Eventually, I reached a point where it became painfully clear that the emptiness I felt could never be filled from the outside. So I surrendered — after the Universe sat me down multiple times, quite literally immobilizing me.

That’s when I began to dig deep into my psyche: therapy, group work, self-help, spiritual content — and eventually, psychic readings on YouTube.

Maybe because psychology has always been a special interest of mine — understandably, given the trauma and addictions — it even surprised me that I’d give psychics a chance. It started as pure curiosity. But now, as you can probably tell since you’re here on my website, it’s evolved into one of the most essential parts of my journey back to self.

Each of these tools came at different times and in different combinations over the years. And slowly, I began to see glimmers of my soul returning — especially through inner child work and forgiveness. It was harrowing, exhausting, and beautiful all at once. But my authentic self was beginning to peek through the darkness.

Excavating Innocence

From birth, my soul — my authentic self — has always been here. As a child, it was the brightest, most uninhibited, and most freely expressed version of me, just as it is for many of us. But like so many others, that light proved too bright for the environment I was in. So, I adapted.

I think that’s where a lot of people get stuck — in the belief that childlike wonder and innocence are lost forever with time. But now I know one of life’s most important journeys is excavating that innocence, allowing it to merge with your logic, your lived experiences, and your wisdom.

That union creates a balanced, authentic version of you.

Looking back, I can see that much of my darkness came from longing — envy, jealousy, grief — for what I’d once been able to feel as a child: unfiltered joy, curiosity, delight, bliss.

As children, we live those emotions so fully, so vividly, without awareness of their opposites. That’s why we call it blissfully unaware.

But here’s the truth — I was just as authentic in my joy as I was when I stole candy from the corner store after school. Same child. Same heart. Same authenticity.

Authenticity isn’t about being good or bad, happy or sad, light or dark. It’s about expressing who you are, how you feel, and what you believe — without conforming to outside expectations.

Integration & Return to Wholeness

So yes, I’m authentically multifaceted and multilayered — and so are you. Life isn’t meant to be lived in boxes or through rigid definitions of what’s “acceptable.” Different expressions of who we are emerge in different seasons. And that’s okay.

Because the path of authenticity and self-discovery isn’t about becoming someone others approve of — it’s about remembering, accepting, and reuniting with yourself. When we chase validation, we lose the essence of the journey. True authenticity begins where the need for external approval ends.

I began this piece by saying that people outside of us are rarely the best judges of authenticity. It makes complete sense that those who knew me when I was still excavating my soul might feel something about who I am today. But the person I was then knew what she knew, felt what she felt, and did what she did — and that’s enough.

I’m grateful for every version of myself because each one brought me closer to wholeness. I know now how to love myself fully, how to forgive myself completely. That’s what allows me to show up more authentically now.

At my core, I’m still the same person — I’ve just released what wasn’t mine to carry. I’ve let go of guilt, of shame, of trying to control how I’m perceived.

So when I pick up trash on the street, I’m not “trying to look good.” I’m simply choosing to do better because I want to be better. That’s authentic.

Authenticity doesn’t live in the eye of the beholder — it lives in the soul.

At the end of the day, it’s something you recognize in yourself when you look in the mirror and feel peace.

Being authentic is a lifelong process. It takes courage, consistency, and compassion. The more small steps you take toward it, the brighter those inner glimmers become — and the longer they last.

And that, truly, is more than most ever dare to do.

I share these perspectives and my own story in hopes that they ignite something within you — a small drive, a spark of courage — to take one step toward your authenticity today. Just one step. That’s all it takes to begin.

And if taking a step in your relationships or outer world feels too big right now, start smaller. Think back to what truly brought you joy as a child — the simple, pure things that made you lose track of time. Revisit one of them. Do it today, no matter how silly, immature, or small it may seem. Because joy is the bridge back to authenticity, and every act of reconnection brings you closer to who you’ve always been.

✨

“Authenticity isn’t a destination — it’s the daily practice of remembering who you’ve always been.”