If you’re a deep feeler like me, authenticity probably is one of your core values.
For a long time, I believed that being authentic meant:
Saying what I feel, right when I feel it
Being the same person in every room
Explaining myself thoroughly so no one misunderstands me
But recently, I’ve realized 3 things that completely changed how I define what it means to live authentically.
Yes, it might be your most intense — but that doesn’t mean it’s your truest.
I used to think that immediate emotional surge when something triggered me was the “real me.”
But the more therapy I did, the more books I read about communication, emotional intelligence, and relationships… the more all the experts kept saying:
“Pause and respond, don’t react.”
Okay, okay. Fine. And I started doing it. Not perfectly — but when I could, I noticed the benefits in my conversations, relationships, and life overall.
Still, I was kind of dying inside.
It felt fake.
This isn’t really me.
This is the watered-down version of me. This is repressing my feelings. This is scripted. This isn’t authentic.
How do I show up as my true self without turning every emotionally charged moment into a full-blown K-drama meltdown?
Here’s the truth:
Pausing to reflect is not less authentic.
In fact, it’s what allows you to show up in a way that reflects what authentically matters to you.
It’s what helps you become the person you want to be — especially in moments of stress.
That initial wave of emotion — the one that wants to pack your bags, throw on dark sunglasses, and weep with a handkerchief at the train station when your partner says something that hurts your feelings — is most likely not your most authentic self. It might just be your nervous system in fight-or-flight mode, hijacking the moment.
The you that pauses, reflects, and responds by saying,
“Hey, what you said earlier hurt my feelings” — that’s not fake.
That’s the real you — the values-led, emotionally honest version of you.
The one who still feels everything deeply,
but doesn’t let raw emotions control the narrative.
Authenticity doesn’t mean being the same everywhere.
Context matters.
Culture matters.
Complexity doesn’t mean you’re fake.
It means your inner compass stays intact — even when your expression shifts depending on the setting.
Growing up as an immigrant, Korean-American kid in the ’90s, because the worlds I lived in were so vastly different — whether I was with my family, at school, or later in the workplace. I was constantly asking myself:
“Who the F am i?”
For example, at my first official job after college, when I worked in finance, I couldn’t even say my boss’s first name for the longest time. In Korean culture, you’d never call an adult by their first name — it felt deeply disrespectful. But in American culture, not doing that felt awkward and overly formal. So I actually never said his name. I’d tap his shoulder. Start talking mid-sentence. Very awkward.
Trying to force myself to be the same person in every context — in the name of being “authentic” — kept me stressed the F out.
Because it felt impossible.
But here’s the truth:
Authenticity also means honoring the context, culture, and complexity of a situation.
It doesn’t mean you are shape-shifting your values.
It means adapting your expression — not your integrity.
I used to overexplain everything — especially when I was saying no or thought I might disappoint someone.
I wanted to show my heart, my good intentions.
If I didn’t explain the entire situation — all the nitty-gritty details — I worried I wasn’t being authentic.
But I’ve learned that overexplaining isn’t always about being authentic.
Sometimes it’s anxiety.
Sometimes it’s fear.
Sometimes, for people like me with OCD, it’s actually a compulsion.
Overexplaining can be a way to feel “safe” from judgment or misunderstanding — especially for those with OCD, who often carry a deep fear of being seen as morally wrong or at fault.
We chase reassurance.
We think if we explain ourselves thoroughly enough, the other person won’t misunderstand our character or intentions.
But that’s not authenticity.
That’s fear doing the talking.
Authentic communication only needs two things: context and clarity.
Not all the details.
Not a play-by-play.
Not a damn TED Talk.
Now, when I find myself wanting to explain something, I pause and ask:
Am I seeking reassurance — or just offering information?
If it’s the first, I take a breath and get curious.
(There’s that pause-and-reflect again from Truth #1.)
Because the truth here is:
You don’t need to explain everything to be real.
You don’t need to be understood perfectly to be okay.
These three nuanced truths about authenticity have helped me feel more grounded, more self-trusting, and more aligned with my actual value of authenticity.
I’m still growing into all of this — but I wanted to share, just in case it helps someone else who also values authenticity but secretly wonders if they’ll ever get it right.
You’re not failing at being “authentic.”
Authenticity is nuanced and layered — just like you.
📣 Stop waiting for someone to rescue you someday.
Your ever after is yours and it is right now.
With so many feelings,
Diana 💖
🔑 P.S. If you missed it — last week I talked about how I use AI to work through values and overthinking. I pulled it all into one YouTube video for easy reference. Check it out, share it with someone that also thinks AI is kinda icky (I do, too) but needs some tips.
@everafterisnow on Instagram | @everafterisnow on Youtube