When Authenticity Becomes Obnoxious
I watched the bassist with intrigue and prickly annoyance.
As I swayed amidst the crowd of a somewhere-in-Brooklyn music hall, I couldn’t hide my sharp disdain for his contrived aesthetic: Adorned in bell bottoms pants, a polyester short sleeve lapel top, and facial hair best left for a 70's adult film, this twenty-something Brooklynite was a walking, bass-playing stereotype.
As his caricature made its way further under my skin, I caught myself in a viscous cycle of cognitive dissonance: I pride myself on authenticity and voraciously celebrate creative authenticity in others. After all, my work largely focuses on indulging one’s quirks, idiosyncrasies, and peccadillos as a pathway to creative brilliance.
So why was his uniqueness irking my soul?
This set me on a mental journey, conveniently set to background music, into the nature of genuine versus contrived authenticity. In other words, the difference between authenticity that’s born from an embodied process of self-discovery — and authenticity that’s mimed from an idealized version of uniqueness.
It’s a topic that I admittedly think about a lot. In an era of social media and personal brands, there’s a lot of seeming-authenticity out there: People portraying themselves as highly differentiated, delightfully quirky, and ‘so weird!’ (a phenomenon brilliantly captured by this satirical reel: I’m like obsessed with fall produce. I know it’s so weird and embarrassing and unique!).
Don’t get me wrong: Everybody is unique.
That’s where human creativity comes from. But authenticity is more than just acting or presenting as different. It’s an lifelong experiment of self-learning followed by self-expression. It’s a slow and evolving process of discovering the oddly shaped gems within yourself, integrating them into your self-concept, and sharing them with others with the intent of genuine connection.
The barrier to authenticity is not a lack of uniqueness, but a lack of awareness about what’s actually unique for us.
Without this awareness, signals of authenticity come across as intentional, deliberate, and too ‘on the nose.’ It feels like a carbon-copy of an authentic persona, rather than an embodiment of one. Like a Brooklyn bassist in a 70’s dad costume, rather than an era-inspired outfit in which he’s comfortably showcasing his aesthetic.
We can all sniff out contrived authenticity when we see it.
Perhaps it’s the flat-brimmed hat adorned ‘Burner.’ Or the too-idyllic homesteader. Or the ‘perfect’ motherhood pro. Or the pouty jet setter. These are the people (or accounts) who look right, but don’t feel right: There’s a disconnect between how they present and who they are.
That’s not to suggest that people who enjoy trends or adopt fanciful lifestyles can’t be authentic — they certainly can. I also don’t want to incept the idea that we should run around judging others for their imperfect shows of authenticity: We will all, at times, attempt to signal our specialness without being aligned with that display.
But I do wish to spark a curiosity about the nature of genuine authenticity.
The more we can cultivate our inimitable sense of uniqueness, the more confidently we can share our creative personality, purpose, and potential — without the need to copy, borrow, or fake it.
Here are three qualities that set genuinely authentic people apart:
1. They Resonate
Even if we don’t agree with their ideas or attitudes, there’s something about how they present themselves that’s universally resonant (Think: Joan Didion, Winston Churchill, Maya Angelou, Tom Hanks, Jane Goodall...).
2. They’re Blenders
Their uniqueness presents as a custom blend of diverse life experiences, preferences, ideas, and beliefs. Instead of conforming with a preexisting archetype, they create their own.
3. They’re Self-Aligned
Because they are aligned to their own true north, there is more consistency between how they seem and who they are. This comes across as an ‘in-their-skinness’ that feels natural and comfortable.