Authenticity as Self Defense
When Authenticity goes too far, it may be a survival response.
Through the chaos of my healing journey, I’ve come to recognize some types of authenticity as self-defense.
Being someone I’m not is more than uncomfortable…
…sometimes it hurts.
In cases like that, authenticity feels like survival.
When trying to connect requires constant conscious choices to change or adapt a core part of myself, authenticity becomes my safe space.
Being authentic is usually harder than adapting or connecting, but it feels more safe, though it often isn’t.
As my PTSD developed over my military career, I started seeking "safe." It wasn’t conscious at first, but it evolved into a deliberate and ongoing search. As I work through my healing journey now, finding ways to feel ‘safe’ is particularly important.
I’ve found, for me, authenticity feels safe.
Authenticity, whatever that really means1, seems to be what I'm seeking.
Over the last few months, I've also started to realize just how messy authenticity can be. I’m quickly gaining an appreciation for how being authentic can impact others.2
I’ve come to realize that I’ve used authenticity as a form of self-defense. I don’t know how that feels to others, but this is what it feels like to me - sometimes.
Today I’ll share a couple experiences that helped me realize how authenticity can sometimes look like a self-defense mechanism, or something akin to a survival response.
This is part of my journey.
You could say this is an important thread in the tapestry of healing I am weaving here.
This is part of finding my voice.
This is a curiosity I found in the chaos of recovery along my road from war to writing.
What is this article? (And what is it not?)
This is not an article about how authenticity leads to success or fulfilment.
This may be a message about how authenticity can cause problems when wielded poorly.
I am not suggesting to live a life with “no filter.”
I am not suggesting every human interaction should be fully authentic.
I’ve danced with those enough to say neither are typically good advice. :)
This is a cautionary tale.
This is an article about how authenticity is sometimes used in self defense.
This is an honest account of “too much” authenticity, or authenticity gone wrong.
Balance and a Practical Approach
I imagine we’ve all said something that we regretted. Perhaps it was authentic, honest, or true… from our perspective… but it was unkind, unnecessary, or simply out of place.
My stories below will illustrate that, but a more practical approach is also important.
As I was finishing this missive, I found a well-timed post by
at . In his article, he illustrates a more a practical approach to authenticity. (more about this writer and article in the footnote3)He starts the article with a quick anecdote about an occasion where he took authenticity a bit too far:
I had finally gotten "authentic" with my friends.”
I told them how I really felt about their life choices. I shared my unfiltered opinions on my relationships, work and future. I dropped the "performance" and showed them my "true self" – raw, unedited, and real.
It felt exhilarating for exactly six minutes.
I’m still figuring out how to do less of that — in person, and here on Substack.
If you had a similar experience and are looking for tips to find balance, you may find his article particularly interesting.
If you’re curious about what some of my similar experiences have looked like and how they’ve felt like self-defense, read on. 8^)
Connection was easier when I was younger.
As a kid, I always felt like a bit of an oddball. Learning to ‘play nice with others,’ sit still, and pay attention in class were always monumental challenges. Trying to ‘fit in’ seemed harder than it was supposed to be.
Perhaps now we would call it ‘masking,’ but I never thought of it that way. I just did what needed to be done to conform and fit in with the world. That should be natural… but it never was.
Being authentic didn’t work well.
A platitude like “just be yourself” was scary.
‘Being myself’ quickly led to being alone, getting in trouble, or both.
Fighting poorly understood and undiagnosed ADHD meant conforming to the rules of society was particularly hard… always.
I needed to squash my authentic self at almost every opportunity.
As an adult, in the Air Force, I found authenticity easier. The rules were clear. I was solidly aligned with the mission and core values.
I'm not sure what changed, (a series of military life stressors, perhaps. Repeated deployments certainly didn’t help) but my ability to connect with others started dropping off in the middle of my career, somewhere around age 30.
Around that time I once described my metal state to a coworker as:
A seething ball of rage coated by a thin veneer of professionalism.
It was my first day back from leave and I was overwhelmed with tasks that impatiently lurked in my inbox. That type of overwhelm wasn't common on my first day back from leave earlier in my career, but had started to become a predictable expectation.
Thankfully, outside of my first day back from leave, the ball of emotions was rarely rage. The metaphor, however, almost always applied. Frustration, stress, and a growing and unsettling sense of overwhelm frequently churned beneath the surface.
As my career progressed, the maelstrom continued, and the bubble that allowed connection with others usually held… but when the veneer cracked, in those moments where containment was lost, my self defense response went toward authenticity, not connection.
Being authentic tends to be better received when you’re not overwhelmed, stressed, or upset. :)
Here are a couple examples of how things played out for me when authenticity took over at odd times.
A Horrible ‘Poker Face’ is a Massive Blind Spot
Over the years, I slowly stopped engaging with body language.
I didn’t really notice at first.
At some point, I found myself confused by it. What I perceived stopped matching context. Finding meaning in mannerisms and voice inflections became an odd, but thankfully only occasional challenge.
On one deployment, I was the acting first sergeant. My squadron commander and I had worked closely together for a couple months, and we had developed a pretty solid working relationship.
I still can’t remember what it was, but at one point we had an unusual disagreement.
He had a plan for something and I was fairly firm in my opposing position. After our discussion, when he made the decision, it was my job to "salute sharply" and support him.
For some reason, in that case, simply following a lawful order I didn't like left me incapable of shouldering my authenticity to support my boss.
When we went to present his plan to the host unit commander, I think my disapproval was clear on my face. Despite my best efforts to be a team player, I did not succeed in that situation.
Examples like this are difficult to learn from because they don't come with feedback. A questioning look tied to slightly halting speech from my commander was all I got. But it was enough. Enough to reinforce the concept that I am very bad at hiding my feelings.
Looking back, that was a big clue I missed about my horrible poker face. I left that experience wanting to avoid misunderstandings, and somehow it translated to less trust in body language.
That experience also reinforced the idea that authenticity acts as self defense. My instinct to avoid "going along to get along" helps avoid getting stuck somewhere I don't want to be or going along with something I don't like.
I only recently started to realize how bad my poker face has always been.
If I don’t have a poker face, I probably shouldn’t try to use one. :)
‘The Interview’
Over time, ripples from that event grew into a pattern. Understanding body language became more confusing more and more often. At times, it became overwhelming and almost painful.
Connecting became difficult and I found myself defaulting to authenticity more often.
I learned not to trust body language, and started to generally ignore it.
That progression probably deserves another article or two and a few more stories, but for now what matters is that authenticity had become a survival instinct by the time I retired.
In early 2024 I had been retired from the service for about 9 months. After working with vocational rehab for a couple months, it was time for my first job interview. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was approaching the a very low point in my mental health journey. I was also woefully out of practice being around people.
Because of that, when I went in for ‘the’ interview, I was not prepared. I had no idea how unprepared I was.
When I tried to turn on the "pay attention to body language” part of my brain, it didn’t go well. ;p
The full interview story, if/whenever I share it, will be full of fun examples of self-discovery and poorly managed authenticity.
At the time, I thought I needed a job where my skills would be used. What I really needed, was a place to be me… to be authentic.
I didn’t look in the right place or at the right time. :)
About an hour into the interview, I suddenly found myself somewhat cornered by the owner. I was tired from the tour, overwhelmed from the experience, and confused about way too many things.
He simply said: “What do you want?”
I think he wanted just wanted a number. Oddly enough, every other job posted on their board had a pay schedule. The QA job I was applying for did not.
Since I was still unsure what they wanted me to do, what they expected from me, or what would be typical of that role, I couldn’t give them a number.
Something like: “an opportunity to be part of a team” might have worked.
“I just want a job, Sir.” was probably what he wanted to hear.
“A place to have my contributions valued.” may have been an appropriate, and authentic answer.
Instead, in my state, I said with a grin: “I want to make people smile."
I’ve been saying that for a couple years leading up to my retirement about my future job… but that wasn’t appropriate at that time.
When I felt trapped, I defaulted to full, to-the-core, authenticity. My authentic response was self defense. Every other option, even though more appropriate, somehow felt dangerous. In that place, at that time, breaking from the authentic me felt unsafe.
I’m still not sure why they invited me back for the third interview after that odd little interaction, but that’s a story for another time. :)
Wrap-Up
I hope this post gave you some additional understanding of why you, or someone you know, may have “lashed out” with radical honesty or unrestrained authenticity.
Perhaps my stories simply added a little sense of caution of what NOT to do when seeking to be more authentic. :)
Hopefully this added some perspective on how authenticity, in some cases, can be a form of a survival response or self-defense.
If you have questions or comments, feel free to add them below or send me a DM on Substack.
For me, for now, being more authentic means attempting to connect with others and slowly emerging from solitude. It means taking baby steps toward a balance where connection is possible, without losing myself by forcing connection or sacrificing authenticity. (Writing in public sure was a curious way to start that process…)
As I discover more curiosities in the chaos along my road from war to writing, I’ll keep sharing what I learn.
Thanks again for stopping by. I hope you have a pleasant week, and I look forward to seeing you next Saturday.
Take care,
- jofty 8^)
Be Authentic
In my first attempt to tackle Authenticity, I said it means:
You have no image to maintain
You can be yourself
You have to consider “Fears” vs “Values”
Be Authentic.
I was spoiled. In my career “bubble” there were many safeguards to avoid fears of someone “taking my job.” The concept of “train your replacement” was instilled early and was a key to mission success. I imagine that allowed us to operate with a sense of
Being Authentic vs Seeking Connection
In my second missive on authenticity, I addressed:
Struggles with Authenticity
Authenticity in Different Contexts
Your Need to Be ‘Real’ Is Fake (And It’s Ruining Your Life)
The title alone makes the topic appear contrary to mine; however, I agree with most of what he writes. While some perspectives vary, our thoughts are similar.
I am writing from a place of solitude and healing. His perspectives are more in-line with someone leading an active professional and social life.
This article provides balance, and perhaps a more relatable or practical take on authenticity.
Among many other things, he touches on an important point to keep in mind:
authenticity without discernment isn't honesty—it's a lack of self-regulation. True authenticity includes the authentic recognition that not every feeling needs expression, not every thought deserves airtime, and sometimes, keeping something to yourself is the most genuine act of love possible.
Over at Awesome Human Beings,
’s articles are engaging, well written, and practical. Also, his frequent Substack notes are encouraging, helpful, and often go “viral” for a reason. His work is worth checking out, and his notes make a ‘follow’ an easy decision. :)