An old friend of mine recently told me that she would soon be taking classes to learn to teach English as a second language. The school she’ll be attending, she casually revealed, is in Mexico.
“You’re leaving the country?” I asked in surprise. Yes, she said. After she completes the training, she intends to spend at least another six months teaching somewhere outside the U.S. She explained that she had always wanted to live overseas, and even though most people who become expatriates do it when they’re young, she felt this was her opportunity, so she’s going.
I was stunned. I knew she was dissatisfied with her life, including the fact that the reward for her decades of professionalism and commitment to her career had been sudden unemployment. But it hadn’t occurred to me that she would suddenly pull up stakes and light out for the territories. My first thought: “She’s a middle-aged woman with a house and friends and family… how can she just leave?”
But then I thought about it some more, and the plan began to sound reasonable, appropriate, sane. She has always had wanderlust and has never been afraid to go to new and exotic places. And although she was successful and expert in her work in the corporate world, she never liked it much (and at times, seemed to positively hate it). It paid her bills, certainly, but she never seemed comfortable, and seemed continually frustrated by the lack of respect she received as well as the ever-decreasing meaning she took from the work itself.
In other words, what I saw as surprising is actually perfectly rational, understandable, and healthy. To use a bit of therapist jargon, her plan reflects authenticity: she’s bringing her life in line with her sense of self. For years, she has played a role – professional, corporate employee, cubicle dweller – and played it pretty successfully, earning decent money and status. But she was wearing a mask, doing what she was supposed to do rather than what satisfied her soul. She was living inauthentically.
It’s difficult, and perhaps impossible, to be happy while living inauthentically. It leaves you constantly battling your “true” self, the real you that we often hesitate to reveal to others (or admit exists even to ourselves). You’re encountering that authentic self every time that small, quiet internal voice reminds you that things aren’t quite right. When we can’t or won’t listen to that reminder, our inner lives become a battleground between what we “should do” and what we want to do. Living with that battle is, at best, tiresome – think of all the energy you’re using just trying to convince yourself that you’re doing the right thing – and at worst, leads to anxiety and depression.
We have many reasons for not living authentically. We tell ourselves, “It would be irresponsible,” or “They [parents, friends, Twitter…] would think I was being foolish,” or “It’s too hard risky, scary, etc.].” The common thread is that we choose to live in a way that feels uncomfortable because we think that we are supposed to.
The truth is, sometimes we do have to do what we’re supposed to. We may have to work a job we hate, that feels completely wrong for us, because we need to support a family. But many (most?) of us can’t keep denying that inner voice forever. At some point, our happiness depends on finding a way to live authentically. Otherwise, we’re unhappy, conflicted, anxious, depressed.
Back to my friend: after many years, she had had enough of living inauthentically. She has arrived at the point where her need for authenticity trumps all the rationalizations and fears that trapped her her in a less-than-fulfilling life. And so, she’s off on an adventure, which I’m guessing will come with its own share of stresses and frustrations. But I’m sure that, any difficulties aside, it will feel exciting, and life-affirming, and authentic. She deserves nothing less.
