Sometimes friction smooths the rough edges—and reveals who we really are
In the course of revealing the layers of my life, several things have come to light.
Sometimes there is friction that smooths the rough edges. The kind of friction that asks us to pay attention—to the moments that feel uncomfortable, the stories we tell ourselves, or the ways we’ve adapted to belong. Often, it’s in those moments that something unexpected is revealed. A truth. A realization. A discovery about me.
When Friction Smooths the Rough Edges
And sometimes those epiphanies can unseat me completely. Buck me right off.
Lately, I’ve been enjoying going to story slams—those brave, vulnerable spaces where you can put your name in a hat and maybe get called to stand on stage and tell a story. Others let you sign up ahead of time or jump in during the moment. There’s something both terrifying and freeing about it.
They usually have a theme, and I write a story to fit. What I’ve discovered is that the process of writing can open a whole new can of worms. It has a way of pulling back layers I didn’t realize were there.
The Mask I Thought I Needed
For October, the theme was mask.
My story was about the mask I began wearing in my tweens. The one I thought would help me fit in. The one that made me believe I needed to be who others expected me to be in order to be accepted.
I carried that mask into adulthood—trying to be the version of myself that would be liked, approved of, or easier for others to understand.
The trouble with that is, it wasn’t authentic to me.
When we spend too much time shaping ourselves around what others need or expect, we can slowly lose sight of who we are underneath it all. We start editing ourselves. Softening our edges. Staying quiet in places where we long to speak. Saying yes when our heart whispers no.
Authenticity is my second-highest value, and somewhere along the course of life, I realized I had been living outside of it.
What Authenticity Really Means to Me
For me, authenticity isn’t one fixed thing.
It isn’t simply “being yourself,” as if there is one singular version of us that shows up the same way in every situation.
Authenticity is learning which part of ourselves is showing up—and consciously choosing the part that aligns with our values and the person we want to be in that moment.
Sometimes authenticity looks like being brave enough to speak up. Sometimes it looks like softness. Sometimes it means setting boundaries, asking for help, or admitting we don’t have it all together.
Sometimes authenticity is noticing the mask we’re wearing and gently asking, Does this still fit? Does this still serve me?
Research from Yale found that authenticity changes by context. What people mean by an “authentic person” is different from an “authentic leader,” restaurant, or experience. Even scholars struggle to agree on one clear definition.
Maybe authenticity isn’t about arriving at a final answer.
Maybe it’s about becoming more aware. More intentional. More honest with ourselves about who we are and how we want to move through the world.
How does authenticity show up for you?
Where in your life do you feel most like yourself?
Where do you notice yourself shrinking, performing, or wearing a mask to belong?
What part of you has been asking for more space, more voice, or more truth?
You don’t have to unravel it all at once. Sometimes awareness is the first step. Sometimes simply becoming curious is enough.
Curious About Exploring Your Own Layers?
If this resonates with you and you’re curious about exploring the many parts of yourself in a supportive space, click the button below to schedule a short Zoom conversation. I’ll soon be opening enrollment for The Kaleidoscope Within Virtual PlayShop—a space to explore your values, patterns, and the many beautiful layers that make you uniquely you.
Every story needs a soundtrack.
This is the one I’ve chosen for this post—sometimes because of the title, sometimes the lyrics, sometimes simply the feeling it stirs in me.
