Authenticity is the Key to True Happiness

3 tips to drop your facade immediately and be the real you

I was an exceptional fencer.

When I put on the mask, I was completely absorbed by it and my sword. My body transformed. It didn’t matter who I was and what I looked like. I was the winner and murder was about to happen.

“On guard, ready, fence!” As soon as the referee announced, I slaughtered my opponents as quickly as a wink, usually scoring within seconds.

The high from being a faceless killer was electrifying and the mask protected my usual low self-esteem. It felt good to be anonymous and frightening.

Then I learned to put on an invisible mask in my everyday life so that I would be loved too. But unlike my fencing mask, the mask of life gave me only lows.

I Am the Epitome of the Middle Class

I didn’t have to lie about being middle class. I started travelling when I was 3 years old and my family could afford to send me abroad for education.

But I still do specific things that uphold the stereotyped image. For women in England, that means carrying a Mulberry bag, wearing a Barbour jacket, and putting on pearl jewellery. I looked like a common Kate Middleton.

I didn’t want any of these. The bag is heavy and the jacket needs waxing all the time. But I dutifully followed.

I also hung out in the right places to ensure no one mistook me as a hipster (which is just middle class gone rouge).

Why was I doing all these? I felt like I needed to fit in.

Why was I so desperate to fit in?

Because of high school.

It seems that universally, high schoolers like to characterize, define, and label themselves and others. There’re the geeks, the cool ones, the emos, the athletes, etc.

It’s part of the process of teenagers understanding themselves, part of the journey to becoming an adult.

I wasn’t particularly clever, cool, athletic (that’s until I fenced), or anything for that matter. But among my comprehensive school friends, I and a couple of others were distinctively richer.

We were travelling to Japan for our graduation trip when others were doing some local hiking. Sometimes we had French for lunch.

I wasn’t snobbish, I just needed to hold on to a label that defined me. This included taking up fencing, which was quintessentially a middle-class sport.

As I moved to London, a truly diverse city, I clung to my look even more so that I definitely fit into the right crowd.

Deep down, I was bored by my middle-class friends. Watching them is like watching a dull version of Made in Chelsea. All they talked about is shopping, eyebrow plucking, and holidays. By fitting it so nicely, I became an outsider.

But I felt I needed to stick with them. Where else could I go? I’m the epitome of the middle class!

Slowly I realized most people are putting on a mask. I’ve seen sensitive guys acting alpha at work, tough women acting girly in dates, or Christians who are only religious at church. For whatever reasons and pressures, we all tried to look like something else, or an augmented version of ourselves.

A mask is what helps you to fit in comfortably, send a clear message, interact with others appropriately, and protect your fragile soul. But who are you without the mask? Are you still loveable? Would people still see you as a friend?

My 3 tips on ditching your mask and embrace your true, authentic self

It’s a first-world problem, yes of course, because I’m middle class and that’s the only type of problem I will get. But that doesn’t make it less of a problem.

On my 30th birthday, I suddenly felt strongly that I’ve pretended enough. Life’s too short. Instead of sticking to the celebration plan of having afternoon tea at Fortnum & Mason, I packed all these middle-classy items in a box and put on my black hiking fleece, some old jeans, and Birkenstocks.

I couldn’t be bothered with the “no makeup” makeup. I wore a cap I got from Budapest that says “Buda-Fucking-Pest” on it. I dumped my laptop in my hiking backpack and took a train to Brighton, a coastal city about an hour from London.

I settled in a cafe, ordered my latte and I wrote and wrote.

I’ve been writing since I could remember. First on my diary, then on more public forums. It’s my secret sanctuary where none of my middle-class friends knows about.

As I typed away, I realized why I love writing and fencing so much. The keyboard, like the fencing mask, didn’t hide my identity, in fact, it lets the real me out. Through my sword and my words, “I” reappears. “I” is free.

So I learned my Tip 1 of breaking free: Find what you love and do it. So there’s no room for definitions.

I met my boyfriend on one of these escape trips to Brighton. He’s a geeky inventor with a handsome face. He wears badly-fitted trousers and skater shoes.

We talked about passion and aspirations. Neither of us was dropping names or showing off. I travelled again and again to Brighton to write and to see him. He showed me the electric motorbike he built. We tried riding it together and fell off immediately because it’s too fast. We just rolled on the grass and laughed.

The conversation is natural and the feelings are genuine. Never once have I pretended to be somebody else. I am so happy.

He introduced me to his friends. Some of them are trendy, some of them are nerdy. There’s one thing in common about them: they are all passionate about something. So we exchanged ideas and learned about each other’s passion. Frankly some of the stuff they said I was just clueless, but it was cool to listen to them.

If you didn’t get chatted up like me, try meeting like-minded people through Meetup or Eventbrite. Go to local Tedx conferences. Join a local sports team, meditation group, choir, or whatever. Don’t just sit and wait with your facade.

Tip 2: Find yourself a group of people who practice tip 1.

For my birthday, a middle-class friend bought me a Hermes perfume and announced that “Chanel is for the twenties and Hermes is for the thirties”. It sounds like a rule.

It made me think how many absurd rules like this are we following?

Recently, the Internet has gone crazy about an aesthetic called Dark Academia. It largely involves autumnal colours, hot drinks, and books/typewriters, most likely inspired by Harry Potter and Oxford University. A chance to dress up like Professor Robert Langdon created by Dan Brown.

As I develop my writing career, I thought I could use this theme for my Instagram. I started browsing Urban Outfitters for houndstooth blazers and orange corduroys.

But then I came across this video by R.C. Waldun and that was a lightbulb moment.

He talks about the deeper meaning behind the Dark Academia trend from a literature lover’s perspective. We can’t embrace the aesthetic without being passionate about words, we should put writing, reading, and thinking before wearing the right clothes and taking a selfie.

I almost fell into the trap of putting a mask on again, just to fit in a stereotyped image of a writer!

Tip 3: Always challenge the assumptions, the rules, and the labels.

Someone told me once, “Like-minded people will gravitate towards each other gradually.” I’ve been fully devoted to hanging out with my new friends, making projects happened (including started writing on Medium), and enjoying my authentic self in my black fleece.

I didn’t burn any bridges with my former friendships, they simply faded away like all things transient.

As humans, we have the tendency to simplify things by putting labels and boundaries on and around a matter, even around a person. Sadly, sometimes these labels limit us further. If we want to live freely and authentically, we need to recognize these false labels and make a point to break out from them.

The process of self-challenging might be constant and life-long. But this is what makes us clear about our goals, who we are, and what we should do.

Start doing what you love today. Life is too short to pay the price of losing your authenticity.