When I am presented with a difficult question, my answer choices generally boil down to lying or telling truth, though perhaps only a version of it. The most difficult question I face is, “Do you have children?” This query forces me to consider whether I will identify as a birthmother. In this situation, not only is my honesty hanging in the balance, but also my authenticity.
Authenticity is more than honesty. Brené Brown, a shame researcher and author, developed this definition in “The Gifts of Imperfection”:
Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are….Mindfully practicing authenticity during our most soul-searching struggles is how we invite grace, joy, and gratitude into our lives.”
In my own experience, I have found authenticity to not just result in grace, joy and gratitude, but also in peace.
I hid my pregnancy and adoption from a majority of my friends and family. When I decided to begin this blog, I realized I would need to tell them — and the world — the truth. Before Christmas, when I was sure to be answering, “What have you been up to?” a hundred times, I posted a summary of my adoption story on my Facebook profile. My friends and family commented with words of encouragement and accepted the news with grace — even joy and gratitude. But what I most felt after my confession was peace: the peace of knowing that I could be myself without losing the love of others.
Prior to posting, I debated whether to note the number of my Facebook friends. How many would unfriend me? I decided not to look, because I didn’t want to be caught up in something so arbitrary and potentially detrimental to my self-esteem. I was already afraid of blunt rejection, and I did not want to go looking for subtle rejection.
In her first book “I Thought It Was Just Me,” Brown writes:
When we start to examine the messages and expectations that fuel our unwanted identities, it’s easy to understand how shame can undermine our authenticity. We simply can’t speak our truths when we are held hostage by what other people think.”
Subjecting our actions to the opinions of others is the enemy of authenticity. To be confident enough to post my truth on Facebook, I also had to be secure enough to let it be. I set aside my shame in search of my authenticity.
I like that Brown describes authenticity as a “daily practice.” She is a well-researched author on shame and authenticity, but she is no master. In her writing, she says many times that authenticity is a goal she strives for every day, but one not always achieved.
For me, being authentic is worth the risk of speaking my truth in spite of what others will think or what I may lose. I suppose, though, that since my authenticity was so warmly received by my friends and family, I am more inclined to embrace the practice with gusto. After a positive experience, saying, “I will do this all the time,” is easy.
In the moments when I do resist my authenticity, I let my imagination run away. I picture disgusted faces, unreturned phone calls, verbal accosting, and flat-out rude rejection. While I have experienced degrees of this, never is it as bad as what I imagine.
While rejection is hurtful and can have some serious social and familial consequences, I think it is important to remember the benefits of authenticity. Like shining a light in a dark corner, authenticity reveals the true colors of the people around us. When authenticity is not embraced, the time has come to consider the overall value of the relationship, and perhaps to set boundaries. Inner peace is often more fulfilling than outward appearances.
In this way, the risk of losing relationships or being exposed to criticism is worth the effort of authenticity. I am not always perfectly authentic, but I am practicing.
As noted, I struggle to be authentic because of my fear of rejection. What is your biggest hangup when it comes to being authentic? In what situations have you felt it difficult to be an authentic birthmother? Share your thoughts in the comment box below.
