How do we know when we're truly ourselves?
I've been thinking about this lately—not in some abstract, academic way, but because I caught myself performing. Not on a stage, just in conversation. I shaped my words to match what I thought someone wanted to hear, smoothed over a genuine reaction to avoid awkwardness. In that moment, was I being myself? Or was I being who I needed to be?
We talk about authenticity as if it's a fixed state we can achieve, like reaching a destination. But maybe it's not that simple. Maybe we're different people in different contexts—not fake, just contextual. The version of me that exists with my closest friend is real. So is the version that shows up at work, or the one that emerges when I'm alone at 2 AM, unable to sleep.