Inauthenticity is a faint, futile fugue that robs life of its mystery and meaning. Yet, social survival compels us to hide, to shift, and to manipulate who we are for ironically what we perceive to be our own benefit within … Continue reading
I recently met someone whose perception of the proper intersection of authenticity and propriety was skewed slightly differently than mine — especially when making a first impression. Call me old-fashioned, but I think there is a civility, and a tenderness, to using discretion when sharing the most banal and vulgar aspects of ourselves with new acquaintances. If I have offended anyone in this way, and I’m sure that I have, then please accept my apology.
That is not to say that deception ought to be employed. Nor should positioning and manipulation.
Rather, we should slowly and softly reveal ourselves. I long for the mystery and intimacy of gently unveiling our complexities, an art form which has sadly become scarce in modern society. I would rather lie awake at night, curiously anticipating more, than bend over the proverbial toilet proverbially puking because too much has been revealed much too soon.
Excuse my banal vulgarity.
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