authentic // of undisputed origin; genuine
genuine // truly what something is said to be; authentic
Some days, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. And even when I do, I’m not sure who it is I see. Is it the person I’ve become, the person I was running from, or the person I always wanted to be?
There are days I don’t even know what the authentic version of myself looks like; it seems to be more of a vibe I’m searching for, but vibes come from resonance, and resonance comes from rippling forces interacting with each other, not a repeating signal saying “look at me” screaming out into the void like an emergency beacon.
It’s not a matter of confidence, skills, being genuine or transparent with others, it’s quite literally, a constant questioning of who am I? And how to do I show up for myself, and for others.
If being authentic means something is of undisputed origin, then that must mean that who I am must be uniquely singular it its presentation to the world, right? There must be no mistaking my words, my opinions, my perspective for anyone else’s.
But how much of my inner monologue, my dreams, and hopes - how much actually originates with me?
We exist at the intersection of nature and nurture, an infinite loop balanced on a line.
What if my anxieties, faults, fears, and achievements are not mine? What if they are co-created through my relationship to my environment and those around me? What of the temporal space, and my relationship to my past and future?
We are formed not in a vacuum or at a standstill, but rather through movement and relativity. The moment we stop moving so that we can plant a flag and say “This is who I am, and where I stand,” we become performative copies of ourselves. We need to carry that flag with us, raise it high without letting it falter.
There are those who scream out into that void like an emergency beacon, trying to lead by centering all the attention on themselves. But a beacon only transmits, it doesn’t receive. It only serves to tell you where someone is, not why, how they got there - or even if the signal is being sent by who you think it is.
The impact we leave as we walk by: that is our authenticity, not the flag, nor its placement.
Similar to hearing a particular set of guitar chords, watching a close friend’s silhouette in the dark, or recognizing the footfalls of a pet running down the hallway without confirmation of knowing the exact person or action undertaken - that is what displaying authenticity feels like to others.
We can strive to be authentic, but whether we are, or not, isn’t up to us to confirm.
This really speaks to me. For a long time, I chased a clear, confident identity, someone who knew exactly who he was and what he stood for. But the deeper I’ve gone into building my businesses, whether it’s writing, historical preservation, or martial arts, the more I’ve realized that identity is fluid.
Each project I’ve started didn’t just come from me; they helped shape me. I’ve sometimes wondered if I created these ventures to express who I am… or if I’ve been using them to figure that out. And honestly, the line blurs. When you pour your time, energy, and values into something, it becomes a mirror. Sometimes you like what you see, sometimes you don’t.
But what I’ve learned is this: authenticity isn’t about having a fixed brand or persona across everything I do. It’s about the impact I leave behind in each space, how I show up, how I treat people, and what I fight to preserve. Whether it’s through a book, a short story, a nonprofit mission, or a conversation, those quiet echoes are what speak louder than any bio or pitch ever could.
So no, I don’t always recognize the person in the mirror. But when I look at the ripple effect of what I’ve built and how it’s helped others connect with the past, find meaning, or stand for something, I feel closest to the real me.
This is a really beautiful post that describes resonance instead of pressure with sharing how we help others. Ya'll need to follow Chris to learn more about leadership that unifies and helps the budding leaders, the dandelion leaders, to rise up.