Authenticity
It’s everything
You’ve all seen it on Facebook.
The sly attempt by Mom to post a photo that is alleged to be about the daughter when we all know it’s about her.
“So proud that Emma got a B+ on her Math test.” #proudparent #couldibemoreproud
Mom has no qualms with posting a horrendous photo of her daughter but damn does she look good.
You know what comes next in the comments:
Hot mama.
You haven’t aged since grade school.
Is it hot in here or is it you?
Which one is mom?
Mission accomplished by mom.
Or maybe you’ve seen this:
Going without makeup today. #natural #makeupisoverrated #effyourbeautystandards
Or to stay balanced, this from a dude:
Nothing better than playing volleyball with my bros. Super proud of my improved serving skills. #jeansweremadeforbeachvolleyball #whatoil
I take no issue with someone proudly putting themselves on display via social media. Just own it.
I think I’m hot and would appreciate your comments confirming it.
I’ve been curling for 3 days straight, just tell me I look ripped.
As I proudly reside in the middle aged years, I find myself consumed with authenticity. If you’re a fraud, I have no interest. If you are self-aware, self-deprecating and not afraid to admit to your flaws, I’m all in. If you can’t laugh at yourself, I’ll pass.
To this day, there is no more authentic person on this planet than my wife. She is who she is and there is no fronting. She oozes real. I knew it from day one and lord did I make the right choice.
Hopefully she’d say the same about me. In fact, I think she would tell you I take it too far.
True story: I told my wife that I drooled when I slept … the night I met her. This wasn’t an attempt to be funny and wacky. While I may have been totally inebriated, I do remember thinking, “she needs to know this now so she has all of the necessary information before making a decision on me as a potential partner for life.”
My love of the “real” extends beyond social media. While the rest of the world chastised Richard Sherman for his unhinged rant after a football game, I frickin loved it.
That is exactly how he felt during the heat of the moment. His team was going to the Super Bowl and he just made the play to get them there. It was who he was and I’ll take that every day of the week over this.
Yawn.
I get you are doing your best to just get through the post-game interview and you don’t want to give the other team any extra motivation by calling them out, but c’mon. If you’ve heard it once …
Think about your favorite blogs. Don’t you appreciate those writers who aren’t perfect and let you know it? Those who have shitty days and tell you about it? Sure, we all like to dabble in the art of escapism from time to time and those “perfect” blogs (think Martha) provide that.
But it doesn’t last. It isn’t relatable. It isn’t sustainable.
Give me the writer who shows you the warts. The writer who proudly shares the photos of the weeds in their garden. The writer who is comfortable dedicating an entire post to a past failure. A writer with true vulnerability, like James Altucher, is addicting. He has failed more times than he has succeeded but damn if those successful ventures don’t mean more when you know they are shared by someone as authentic as he is.
The book I just published, check that, self-published (promotion to follow fully intended) was driven by a desire to be authentic and honest about my garden.
Too many books and publications in the gardening world don’t tell the entire story. Yes, flowers are beautiful but non-diehard gardeners need to know that those flowers only last 2 weeks. You can’t plan a garden around those two weeks, but you can plan knowing the foliage looks great post-bloom and the spent flowers add interest into the fall and winter.
Plant authenticity.
I know that my 14 year-old son will read this. He reads all of my stuff. While that makes me nervous at times, I like to use it to my advantage.
He wants to be a writer. He is good at it already. But I realize there is nothing more terrifying than “being who you truly are” as a teenager. And he needs that to take his writing to the next level. He needs that so he can find his voice.
Jack, here’s hoping that at least 10% of what I say here sinks in. You’ll thank me later.
Pinky swear.
Why do we love comedians so much? Because they are brutally honest and allow us to accept our insecurities by proxy. A hacky and bullshitty comedian can be called out within minutes. We know inauthentic as soon as we see it.
But when a true comedian strikes a nerve and hits on a fear or failure that we can relate to, it’s like cathartic magic. We aren’t in this life alone. We are all flawed and damn if that isn’t heart warming. The laugh becomes relief.
I think I’m a funny writer because I’m honest and have no issue sharing my many flaws with my audience. I’ll read the latest listicle on how I can improve my writing or up my social media cred, but it won’t stick. Share a past failure or a current struggle and what you are learning along the way and I’m a fan for life.
While you’re doing that, I’ll keep writing about the pee that drips down my leg after each and every bathroom trip.
Yes, I strategically found a way to add the previous link to this story.
Yes, I hope you’ll read the story.
Yes, I hope that you’ll click the green heart.
Yes, I yearn for you to then follow me.
No fronting here.
