Finding the strength to be my own authentic self is turning out to be the single-most difficult aspect of "growing up."
Setting aside the esoteric discussion of "what is this thing I call self, anyway," when I refer to my "own authentic self," what I mean is being comfortable enough to be open and honest about my opinions, my chosen spiritual path, my values. I've found this kind of openness to be incredibly difficult because my opinions, values, and spiritual path are totally divergent from those of my family of origin.
I grew up in a politically conservative fundamental Christian home. It's a world view that has never made any sense to me. Life in black and white. You're with us or against us. So you can imagine the difficulties a child who sees the world in Technicolor might have with that kind of upbringing.
When you grow up like that, when you see your parents literally turn their back on anyone who has a differing opinion about anything, you learn at a very young age that love isn't unconditional. You learn that you'd better toe the line because your very survival depends on being accepted and validated by these very well-meaning but narrow-minded and judgmental people.
You learn that it's NOT okay to be different. Which is unfortunate, because you also know that you ARE different.
Over time, you learn to parrot their ideas using your own vocabulary, which gives the impression of belief. You have everyone fooled. But your entire life starts to feel like wearing a pair of high-heeled stilettos that are two sizes too small when all you really want is to go through life in a pair of sock monkey slippers. It just doesn't fit. It's increasingly more uncomfortable. The blisters get worse and worse, bunions start showing up, and if you don't put an end to it, eventually you'll find yourself disfigured and disabled.
I spent a long time feeling very resentful about my own inability to express myself. In my five year old mind, I was completely convinced that I wouldn't be loved should I verbalize doubts in the existence of some kind of all-powerful vindictive god (you know, the one that's always smiting "bad" people). I haven't been five years old in a very long time, and yet there's still this little girl hiding inside of me who firmly believes that she will not be loved if she disagrees with anyone.
That kind of resentment is hard to let go of. It was my own fear of their rejection that kept me hiding my real self away for so many years. What's with this need for external validation? Intellectually, I know that it's theoretically possible to disagree without the world coming to an end. My survival doesn't depend on my ability to be amenable to everyone.
I never even allowed myself to think for a moment that my family might still love me, even if I wasn't quite like them. And yet, it took me years and years before I could finally say to my mother, "I don't really believe in the Christian god, I usually vote Democratic, and I'm more of a Buddhist than anything."
And honestly, she didn't take it all that well (and I didn't either). She quoted scripture at me, saying, "Two cannot walk together unless they be agreed." But I don't buy it. No two people are ever of the same accord on everything. Two can't walk together unless they have enough mutual respect and inner strength to let go of the need to always be "right."
It was very confusing because on the one hand she kept saying that she loves me, but "two cannot walk together unless they be agreed?" What does that mean in terms of how it's going to effect my life? I still don't know. She probably doesn't either. It's time to get comfortable with the discomfort.
"Coming out" to my mother was the first hurdle. But I'm not so sure if it was the hardest or not. Next comes walking the walk, talking the talk, being the person I always wanted to be. And it's risky. Because there are some who will prefer the story they tell themselves about who I am and have no interest in hearing the story I'm going to tell the world (and myself) about who I am.
And that's okay. May they be happy and may they be well, even if that means they must be happy and well away from me.
