When Being Yourself Becomes an Excuse for Not Changing
Last week, I caught myself recounting an old story that still makes me cringe and grin in equal measure. It happened during the era when waiters would hand me the kids’ menu without a second thought. A time when my youthful looks were both a blessing and a professional hurdle. The incident involved an HR director who, after a brief encounter, decided I didn’t quite have the gravitas to interview senior leaders. According to her, I simply wasn’t “impactful” enough. Translation: I looked more like a babysitter than someone who should be analyzing executives’ inner workings.
She wasn’t entirely off about my appearance, what my mother called “good genes,” and what the business world interpreted as “not ready for prime time.” What she didn’t realize was that those same executives would soon be sitting through marathon psychological interviews with me. Once I started delving into their formative years, my age faded into the background. Realizing this, my twentysomething stubbornness only intensified. Why try to fix what had stopped being a problem?
Ironically, I didn’t anticipate that motherhood would so quickly erase any doubts about my maturity. After having a child, I acquired the unmistakable air of someone who’s negotiated with a toddler over the necessity of pants at the supermarket. Suddenly, people stopped questioning if I was old enough for the job and started wondering if I’d had enough caffeine to survive the day.
The “That’s Just Me” Comfort Zone
This memory resurfaced when a friend breezed into lunch nearly an hour late and, without a hint of remorse, announced, “I’m hopeless with time.” Her casual self-acceptance reminded me of my younger self. From my current vantage point, I see how easily “that’s just who I am” becomes a shield against any real effort to adapt.
I partially blame the self-esteem craze of the nineties for this. What started as a well-meaning attempt to protect kids’ feelings somehow morphed into the belief that no one should ever feel challenged by their own behavior. We went from “maybe don’t call children stupid” to “everyone gets a medal for showing up.”
Now, we have adults who seem genuinely perplexed when the world doesn’t accommodate their quirks. I recently watched a young man at the airport grow increasingly frustrated because the check-in agent couldn’t decipher his mumbling. Instead of speaking up, he explained to everyone in line that he had a “distinct communication style” and that expecting him to adjust was “unfair.” The agent, probably a veteran of countless customer encounters, looked at him like she’d discovered a new species of bird.
The real shame is that the people most resistant to change are often those who could benefit the most from a little self-reflection. The person who dominates every conversation and calls it “enthusiasm,” then wonders why invitations dry up. Or the one who refuses to listen because “I’m just not a people person,” never noticing how isolated they’ve become.
The Self-Improvement Olympics
On the flip side, you have the optimization fanatics. These are the folks who treat self-improvement like a competitive sport. Tracking every step, heartbeat, and glass of water, as if human existence can be perfected with enough data.
Both extremes miss the point. One group refuses to acknowledge that growth is necessary; the other tries to engineer humanity out of the human experience. Neither seems interested in the messy, unpredictable business of actually connecting with others.
So where’s the line between being true to yourself and just clinging to bad habits? Is labeling yourself as “always late” a form of self-acceptance, or just an excuse to avoid change? And when does self-improvement become a betrayal of who you really are?
Executives and Everyday Dilemmas
These questions come up a lot in my work with leaders. Executives have to walk a tightrope: relatable enough for their teams, authoritative enough for the board. They’re told to be authentic, but only in ways that inspire confidence, never concern.
It’s oddly funny, and sometimes sad to watch high-powered leaders wrestle with questions you’d expect in a teenage diary. How much of myself should I show? Which feelings are safe to express? Where’s the edge of vulnerability?
I once worked with a CEO who agonized for days over whether to mention his dog’s passing in a company-wide email, cycling through drafts that ranged from “Buster has crossed the rainbow bridge” to “Due to unforeseen circumstances, my canine associate is no longer with us.” Another executive debated whether to admit her exhaustion, finally deciding that confessing to a nap in the restroom wasn’t the best move.
In truth, we’re all constantly shifting between our authentic selves and the version that fits the situation.
At dinner parties, you ask about Jeremy’s beekeeping while secretly wondering if boredom can be fatal.
On a first date, you might admit to crying at animal documentaries, but you probably don’t mention your houseplants are all named after Star Wars characters.
At work, you nod along to talk of “synergistic solutions” while mentally planning your snack break.
And at home, you can communicate your entire mood through the way you load the dishwasher—slamming plates for “holiday stress,” or arranging cutlery with surgical precision for “whoever finished my leftovers, beware.”
Healthy Adaptation Versus Losing Yourself
We’re social creatures by nature. Adjusting to different environments isn’t being fake. It’s just part of being human. My perpetually late friend may never win awards for punctuality, but she always shows up when it matters and remembers the things that count. She’s true to her values, though I’d argue her consideration for others could use a little work.
At the core, we’ve confused respecting people’s inherent worth with accepting every behavior as equally valid. Everyone deserves dignity, but that doesn’t mean your habit of leaving cryptic notes on the office fridge is a charming quirk we should all embrace.
The real challenge isn’t just “being yourself”, it’s knowing which parts of yourself to bring forward in each moment, without losing sight of what matters most. We’re all complicated. Instead of obsessing over whether to change, it’s better to ask which changes are truly worthwhile. Some traits are so central that changing them would mean losing something essential. Others are just habits we’ve dressed up as personality. Authenticity isn’t about refusing to budge; it’s about showing up honestly, without making everyone else wish they’d taken the stairs.
That’s why I no longer see authenticity as never apologizing for who I am. Now, I think it’s about having the courage to apologize when who I am falls short of who I could be. The most honest thing we can say isn’t “this is just how I am,” but “this is how I am right now, and I’m still figuring it out.”
For tips on how to put this in place in your own life go to my Substack and get Life Connected in your inbox, tune in to my podcast for real-world stories, or grab one of my books for a deeper dive.
