Becoming Authentic Genome

My recovery from the burden of conformity and becoming my true self, the authentic Genome, is the central theme of The Circular Journey. It's the reason this blog exists. Occasionally, the core message can get lost in the self-aware humor I use to lighten up the work of personal growth.

As a child, I was taught to be quiet and obedient, which translated to the holy trinity of childhood virtues: sitting still, staying silent, and avoiding trouble—particularly in the hallowed arena of family gatherings. Consequently, during those Sunday afternoon congregations of extended family, I stood out from my same-age cousins like a librarian at a heavy metal concert.

My behavior was so dramatically different from the other kids that I might have registered a decimal point on the Richter Scale—technically present but nothing of seismic significance. No wonder I was regarded as mentally questionable and distressingly "different." 

When I entered the grand theater of public education at age six, I felt like the only actor who didn't receive a script or character description. I discovered it was easier to pretend to be like everyone around me than to be true to the person inside. So I improvised with the desperation of a man attempting to build a parachute after jumping from the plane.

Throughout my early life, I studied the behavior of my peers, adjusting my performance accordingly. By high school, I'd refined my chameleon act to perfection. I collected personalities like some collect baseball cards.

Oddly enough, this exhausting act propelled me toward what society terms "success." By my twenties, I'd mastered the art of being precisely what each situation demanded. 

Job interviews became performances where I was The Perfect Candidate, and romantic relationships thrived as I took on the role of the man my partners were searching for. My elaborate maze of personas left me questioning whether I would ever reconnect with my original self.

Around my late thirties, the facade began to fracture, culminating in a chaotic incident that resulted in what my therapist would later delicately term "an episodic break from consensual reality." I've always liked her way of describing what's usually thought of as an emotional breakdown.

Through court-mandated therapy, I slowly began a journey of self-discovery and self-awareness that helped me become re-acquainted with my authentic self, after years of pretending to be someone I never was.

My therapist—a woman with the patience of a geological formation and a refreshing ability to never be impressed by my performances—became my guide on the journey to authenticity. 

With her help, I learned to accept that my true self was never lost. Now, I embrace this rediscovered self like new shoes—initially awkward but surprisingly fitting. I may not fully understand who I've become, but I've found comfort in being myself.