Gradients and soft transitions between shades, representing the complexity of identity and authenticity beyond binary thinking.

The Longer I Live, The Less I Believe in Black and White

March 24, 20267 min read

Have you ever felt like you're betraying yourself every time you adapt to a room? The longer I live, the less I believe in black and white. And that includes the concept of authenticity.

We're told:

"Just be yourself." "Show up as you are." "Authenticity wins."

And I used to believe that. I used to think there was one version of me, the real me, and anything else was fake.

But the older I get, the more I realize: that's not how humans work.

The Dichotomy That Keeps Me Up at Night

Here's the tension I can't resolve: I believe in authenticity. I also believe in behavioral flexibility.

I believe in showing up as yourself. I also believe in reading the room and adjusting.

I believe people should accept you as you are. I also believe it's your responsibility to communicate in ways people can receive.

And somehow, we've been told those things are opposites. That if you adjust, you're not being authentic. That if you're truly yourself, you don't adapt.

But that's not true. And pretending it is creates unnecessary suffering.

What Happened During Rehearsal

I grew up in Russia - a country that was over 90% white. I didn't see diversity until I moved to the United States. I didn't think about race. I didn't think about representation.

I'm preparing to give presentations at the HR conference, and I have prepared slides for it. Mostly white people. Because that's what I grew up seeing.

And then someone pointed it out. Not aggressively. Just: "Have you thought about the diversity in your slides?"

I hadn't. So I changed them. I started being intentional about showing different faces, different backgrounds, different identities.

And here's the question I wrestled with: Does that make me fake? Am I betraying my authentic self by adjusting my materials to be more inclusive?

Or is awareness part of authenticity?

The Uncomfortable Question

Because here's what I realized: My "authentic self" didn't think about diversity. Not because I was against it. Because I grew up in a monoculture.

But that doesn't mean my lack of awareness was virtuous. It just means I hadn't been challenged yet.

So when I adjusted my slides, was I being inauthentic? Or was I learning? Was I code-switching? Or was I evolving?

And if authenticity means "never change," then authenticity is just another word for stagnation.

Behavioral Flexibility Isn't Betrayal

I teach this in our programs. Behavioral flexibility is a strength. It's the ability to meet people where they are.

If I'm speaking to a corporate audience, I adjust my language. If I'm speaking to first responders, I adjust my examples. If I'm speaking to educators, I adjust my tone.

Does that make me fake? Or does that make me effective?

Because here's what I've learned: People can't hear you if you're speaking a language they don't understand. And insisting they should understand you, insisting they should accept your "authentic" communication style isn't authenticity.

It's rigidity.

The Cost of Awareness

But here's the part nobody talks about: Once you become aware, you can't go back. And that comes with a cost.

I used to be able to show up to a presentation and not think about the diversity in my slides. Now I can't. I see it every time.

I used to be able to have conversations without thinking about the language I use, the assumptions I make, the blind spots I carry. Now I can't.

And sometimes, honestly, I wish I could. Because awareness is exhausting.

It would be easier to just show up as I am and say: "This is me. Take it or leave it." But I can't do that anymore. Because I know better.

And once you know better, you're responsible for doing better.

What "Be Yourself" Actually Means

So what does authenticity mean if it doesn't mean "show up exactly the same way in every context"?

I think it means this: Don't betray your values. But do adapt your delivery.

Don't compromise who you are. But do learn how to communicate with people who aren't like you.

Don't change your core. But do evolve your awareness.

Because the "real you" isn't a static thing. It's not a fixed version you're supposed to defend forever.

The real you is the version that learns, grows, adjusts, and still holds onto what matters.

What Remote Viewing Taught Me

There's a concept in remote viewing: don't assign meaning to what you observe immediately. Just observe and report.

And I think that applies here. When you adjust your behavior based on new awareness, don't immediately label it as "fake" or "authentic."

Just notice it. See what happens.

Because sometimes, the adjustment feels like growth. Sometimes it feels like code-switching. Sometimes it feels like both.

And that's okay. You don't have to resolve the tension. You just have to live with it, honestly.

The Line I Keep Looking For

People ask: "Where's the line? When does adaptation become betrayal?"

And I don't have a clean answer. I wish I did. But here's what I've noticed:

If the adjustment makes you feel like you're hiding, it's probably not healthy. If the adjustment makes you feel like you're translating, it's probably fine.

If you're changing because you're ashamed of who you are, that's not flexibility. That's survival mode. If you're changing because you've learned something new and you're integrating it, that's growth.

But even that isn't always clear. Because sometimes growth feels like betrayal. And sometimes survival mode is necessary.

What I Tell Myself

I don't have this figured out. I don't think anyone does. But here's what I come back to:

I'm not the same person I was 10 years ago. And if I was, that would be a problem.

I've learned things. I've been challenged. I've grown. And that growth shows up in how I communicate, how I show up, how I see the world.

Does that make me less authentic? Or does that make me more human?

Because humans aren't fixed. We adapt. We learn. We evolve. And pretending we shouldn't, pretending that authenticity means staying exactly the same, is denying what it means to be alive.

For the Person Who Feels Like They're Betraying Themselves

Maybe you've adjusted the way you communicate at work. Maybe you've changed the way you show up in certain spaces. Maybe you've learned something new, and it's made you question who you really are.

And maybe you're wondering: Am I being fake? Or am I just learning?

Here's what I'd say: If the adjustment aligns with your values, it's not betrayal. If the adjustment is helping you communicate more effectively, it's not fake.

But if the adjustment is making you small, if it's requiring you to hide parts of yourself you're proud of, then yeah, that's a problem.

And the only way to know the difference is to sit with the discomfort and ask yourself:

What am I protecting? My authenticity? Or my comfort?

Because those aren't the same thing.

The Dichotomy I Can't Resolve

I believe in authenticity. I also believe in behavioral flexibility. I believe people should accept you as you are. I also believe you're responsible for how you show up.

And I don't think those things are opposites. I think they're both true. At the same time.

Which means the tension doesn't go away. It just becomes something you live with.

And maybe that's the point. Maybe the goal isn't to resolve the tension. Maybe the goal is to stop pretending it doesn't exist.

Because the moment you stop defending your "authentic self" as a fixed thing, you're free to grow. And the moment you stop judging your adjustments as betrayal, you're free to learn.

And that—messy, uncomfortable, unresolved - feels more authentic than any version of me that refuses to change.

If you're leading in complex, diverse environments and struggling with the tension between authenticity and adaptation, we can help.

At MotivAction®, we teach leaders to stay grounded in their values while building the behavioral flexibility required to connect across contexts.

Learn more at MotivAction.Academy.

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