How to be Authentic

On the value of authenticity in creativity and everyday life.

Photo by Artur Aldyrkhanov on Unsplas

Authenticity. It’s an important topic, and one I’ve written on before. So when I heard the Merriam-Webster 2023 word of the year was ‘authentic’, I knew there was more to say. The dictionary backed up this year’s selection by saying it stands in opposition to AI in writing, fake news, deepfake technology, and represents identity.

“[It’s] the term for something we’re thinking about, writing about, aspiring to, and judging more than ever. A high-volume lookup most years, authentic saw a substantial increase in 2023, driven by stories and conversations about AI, celebrity culture, identity, and social media.” — Merriam-Webster press release.

This also stands in direct opposition to their word choice for 2022, which was ‘gaslighting’. It’s clear we’ve been wrestling with the concepts of truth, reality, and authenticity for a while now, but perhaps it’s taken until this point in time to really see the value in those things. We were all living online during the pandemic, in a world with everything from photo filters and fake zoom backgrounds, to rapid advancement in deepfake and AI tech. At first what seemed like easy ways to hide a messy office, or slim down a few pounds in a photo, quickly turned to unreliable news sources, manipulation, and yes, gaslighting. Fake was in fashion, but now we’re seeing the major downfalls of that — some of which are outright dangerous.

On a more social level, I’m now seeing a real taste for the offline in everyday life. Just this past week I attended a nearly sold out preview of a live theatre event, a packed literary reading that ran long due to so many participants, and a free concert in a neighbourhood park that once again was packed with locals willing to stand out in the cold for that experience. There is a movement back toward the tactile, the sensory, the feeling and vibe of an experience, which one can’t get online. Dare I say, this is a movement back toward authenticity.

And yet recently I met a spoken word artist who claimed that everything in life is performance. This was during a casual conversation at a literary open mic night where several spoken word poets had performed. This particular poet had given a very animated reading of her own work — as spoken word artists do — and I had remarked on how good it was, especially following so many writers who had simply stood up and read without a performance. This is when she explained that all our choices are performance in one way or another, and I suppose in a sense we are choosing how we present ourselves to the world at any given time. But what does this mean for authenticity? Doesn’t a performance imply some sort of acting or mask or fabrication of one’s self for presentation?

I depends. I think we are all performing to a certain extent, except for some of us it’s quite unconscious. Our upbringing, past experience, culture, heritage, social circle, etc will shape who we are. And we have choice in how we show up to places in order to either fit in or to stand out. This is a very basic description, but you can see what I’m getting at here. The problem with this is only when we forget our authenticity. Perhaps we do all craft ourselves in a certain way to exist, or ‘perform’, in the world, but if it comes from a place that aligns with who we are, then that’s authentic. It’s only when we consciously put on a costume or manner of being in an attempt to be unlike ourselves that things get complicated.

Obviously I’m not going to dive into those many reasons why someone could be putting on an inauthentic ‘performance’ in everyday life (and to be fair, I think we’ve all done this from time to time), but I will relate it back to creativity. I think a lot of people see creativity as fictional, an escape, a mask, or as something outside of one’s self, but really it’s not. There is an artist behind the creativity that, if they’re in their element, are creating from a space that is uniquely them. Each writer or painter or dancer, etc, is going to have their own skillset, their own life experience, and their own inspiration. Really, when you think about it, being creative is one of the most authentic things a person can do.

However, this is where a lot of people get stuck. Looking back at those spoken word artists, I found myself wishing I could do what they did. They all seemed so cool and commanded a large audience. It was nearly theatrical and spectators loved it! Yet, knowing I’ve never gotten much joy from acting on stage, I suddenly found myself wishing I could. Had I been less experienced or confident in my own writing craft, I probably would have explored spoken word for a while — and I likely would have been terrible at it, or at least not enjoyed performing it. I know myself well enough to realize I was momentarily taken by someone else’s skill and the attention it brought them, but for me to try and copy that for the same result would have been both silly and completely inauthentic. This is where creatives can get blocked — trying to be someone or something other than themselves.

Creativity should be the ultimate expression of one’s self, or an interpretation of the world as only the artist can see it. So when some of the younger spoken word poets took their turns to perform, I was pleased at how original their work was, but also taken back by how much they felt the need to justify it. A few young poets spent more time explaining their writing and how it related to them, or why it was important, than actually reading their work. Is this trend about guaranteeing the authenticity? Or is it more about insecurity, especially for young people who grew up in an online world where it seems every influencer is a copycat of another? Maybe it’s that social media tends to center all our offerings on ourselves, and this was just an in-person way to tag a profile and bio to a live ‘post’.

I’m not sure what the truth is, but I am intrigued. Does that make authentic creativity more fragile? I would think authentic creativity would be stronger. Much stronger. So perhaps it’s just the perception of fragility and a preoccupation with proving how our work relates back to ourselves. Maybe chalk it up to the insecurity of youth?

I think if we are really creating from an authentic space, the work will speak for itself and our own authentic mark will just be there. There shouldn’t be a need to explain it. I’d be curious to know if the insecurity will fade with experience, or if we really are in a new age of seeking authenticity in a space were we are so unsure of what’s real or not that we need to justify our own truth.

Regardless of where the future takes us, I’d reminded of that well-worn Oscar Wilde quote and absolutely stand by it: “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.”