AUTHENTICITY
More on honesty. Falsehood is easily shrouded in extravagant complication, but truth is laid bare in its naked simplicity. I have not been myself. That's a difficult truth. I do not know myself. That, even more difficult. Through the years I've donned more masks than I can remember, in a vain and fruitless effort to shroud my innermost pain and wounds in more convenient and attractive lies. Tragically, at the time I regarded these masks as progress.
For the longest time, I've donned the mask of the Disciple, but I've also worn the mask of the Loner, the Satirist, the Skeptic, the Elitist, the Philanderer, the Benefactor, and the Executive, but in truth I am none of these people. They are caricatures, staged marionettes acting out prototypical gestures in keeping with requisite expectations, but they are not me.
After 33 years it's difficult to contemplate, but I wonder if I have ever truly been myself. Bitter though that may seem, somehow such knowledge is also sweet. Despite the apparent waste, I'm happy to say I don't particularly like any of those caricatures and would hate to think that any of them were a true representation of who I really am.
But if I detest the charade, why not be myself? With hardly any evidence, I've never believed it possible the real me might be worth a damn. So I let others convince me of what I should be. Other peoples' inclinations and appetites became models of what I should strive for, so I turned my back on myself.
Despite the waste, I've learned something most valuable from all this. By getting a chance to mirror all the things I thought I might want to be, I've discovered I am not gaining anything from all the lies. Others can don whatever masks they desire and can attempt to manipulate me into doing the same, but I'm no longer interested in anything beyond learning the value of my true nature.