What if your most authentic self is actually... kind of a dick?
Why authenticity is a privilege.
What would you do if you had fuck you money?
Like – really. If you were the ultra rich.
I’ve been asking this question to friends and family lately, as I’ve been noodling on this topic. Everyone gives some version of:
‘Oooh, I'd still be me. Just with a bigger house. No debts. Maybe fly business class.’
Well, I wouldn't.
I’d wear the outfit that makes your HR nervous.
I’d drive a Mustang painted chameleon-pink on the days I have my period.
And a 911 on the days I feel dangerous.
And I’d have a driver in a Rolls-Royce to take me to dinner. (Because if you have a driver, it has to be a Rolls-Royce, no?)
I’d have a mansion.
And I’d never, ever do my own laundry again.
I’d write this essay with names.
Actually – I probably wouldn’t write this essay at all.
I'd like to think I'd still be nice.
You know the people who are rude to restaurant staff? I despise them.
I think I'd still be nice to restaurant staff though.
I think I’d feel bad about myself otherwise.
I wouldn't want to be a dick.
Or… I hope so.
We’re great at being ourselves when we’re kids and when we’re old.
No filter. No shame. We cry when we’re sad. Scream when we’re mad.
Roll on the floor if we’re not getting what we want.
I talked about this briefly in my other essay – Who does she think she is? And I referenced Caroline McHugh from her The Art of Being Yourself video.
Then we grow up and they tell us: Just be yourself.
But what the hell does that mean? Can you really be yourself?
I used to think authenticity is a virtue.
I thought I was doing pretty well. I don't mince words. I say what I mean. What’s on my mind – comes out of my mouth. Pretty cool, right? So authentic.
But I toned it down. Mostly at work. A little at home.
Is that maturity? Or self-betrayal?
Am I still authentic… or just tolerable?
Am I a dick though??
Maybe.
Be yourself. Be real. But what does that actually mean? Who gets to be authentic – and at what cost?
Research says authenticity means acting in line with your values, being self-aware, expressing your true self.
It feels good. Real. Right.
It makes people trust you.
It also makes you weird. Risky and sometimes… disliked.
But what happens when your authentic self doesn’t fit the room?
What if you’re queer in a homophobic office?
A Black woman with an afro in a ‘professional’ space? Hello - have you heard? Even Simone Biles - THE GOAT - was told her hair was too much.
Too black. Too messy. Too real.
What if being authentic gets you fired? Or arrested?
What if it gets you excluded from the meeting… before the meeting.
That's where it gets complicated. Because authenticity isn’t neutral.
It isn’t free.
Being authentic can cost you a job.
A deal.
A seat at the table.
And in some countries – your life.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth:
Authenticity is a privilege.
‘Just be yourself’ – but only when your version of you feels normal to others. When your name sounds familiar, when your accent doesn’t raise eyebrows. When you’re white, straight, neurotypical, cis, able-bodied, not too much.
This is what the research says: people are more likely to feel authentic when they already feel accepted. Social approval creates psychological safety – and safety is what makes honesty possible.
If you’re respected, powerful, admired? You get to be weird.
You can say ‘Fuck off’ to everyone like Logan Roy in Succession.
You can be authentic because there’s nothing to lose.
And maybe that’s when your morals start to stretch, too. Not because you’re evil – but because you can. Because when there are no consequences, the rules feel optional.
Psychologist Kenji Yoshino calls it covering — hiding parts of your identity to fit in.
Not lying, exactly. Just toning it down.
Because being too real might cost you the room.
People in high-power roles are more likely to feel authentic – because they can.
Meanwhile, the ones at the margins are told bring your whole self to work... but then punished when they actually do.
So maybe the question isn’t: How can I be more authentic?
Maybe it’s: Who’s allowed to be?
Which brings me to Lauren Sánchez. Because what is more authentic than being deeply in love with a bald trillionaire while wearing a dress made of diamonds?
Is it real?
I think so.
Is it curated?
Obviously.
Is she free?
More than most of us will ever be.
She was loud before Jeff. Flashing boobs, big energy, unapologetic.
Probably more herself than half of Linkedin combined.
And still – we crucify her.
So tacky.
So thirsty.
Look at her face, her dress, her everything.
But wait – didn’t we all say, ‘Be your authentic self’?
Gwyneth Paltrow can sell a candle that smells like her vagina and call it wellness.
You try that and you’ll be on a PIP by Friday.
Authenticity is only celebrated when it’s palatable. Polished. Pretty. Not too much. When we think it’s okay.
Lauren is authentic. She just doesn’t recycle her oat milk carton. And if you’re honest? You probably wouldn’t either.
She’s authentic – we just don’t like how authentic she is.
Because some authenticity makes people uncomfortable – especially when it’s loud, sexual, or doesn’t ask for permission.
It’s easy to be yourself when your ‘self’ is rich, because you’re untouchable.
The rest of us?
We’re still reading articles about how to bring your true self to work.
What if your most authentic self is confident?
Or loud?
Chaotic?
Or kind of a dick?
But go on.
Be too much.
Be weird.
Be real.
But try not to be a dick.
P.S. For the nerds:
Bits and pieces that informed this rant:
– Kenji Yoshino’s work on covering — the way we all subtly hide parts of ourselves to fit in.
– Caroline McHugh’s The Art of Being Yourself — the TEDx talk about unapologetic self-expression.
– A study by Lopez & Rice on authenticity in relationships — turns out being real is good for your mental health and your connections.