The Strength of Becoming Yourself

When we talk about becoming ourself, we tend to focus on what we are gaining: more confidence, better boundaries, greater self-awareness, increased authenticity. I often feel that this comes with an assumption of expansion and maybe also ease. 

Yes, I would say that this is true. But. What we tend not to also talk about is where personal growth can come with friction and grief.  And that this is a necessary part of the process.

I don’t say this to be a Daisy Downer, but rather because I feel that there can be a bit of whimsical romantic idea of what becoming our authentic self will feel like. In this wellness world of ‘10 top tips to saying no’ and ‘it’s not you, it’s them’, no one’s really talking about the moments where you feel wrecked with emotion when you realise that some of the people you thought you were closest to apparently don’t like this version of you?

Or, when it turns out that this evolution of yourself doesn’t actually like some of the things in your life that you had never even thought to question before. 

Because these things also come along with self- growth. They can bring about some of the deepest shifts within ourself - yet when they happen it can feel like the very opposite. It can feel easier to shy away, but doing so may inhibit the times when we find a greater steadiness in ourself.

Usually, these moments start to happen when we say no more often or we stop automatically stepping in to solve problems. They happen when we become clearer about what we will and won’t take responsibility for or we start expressing needs, preferences, opinions or limits that previously remained hidden.

Essentially they happen when we begin to own the space we inhabit and recognise our worth. 

People become accustomed to relating to others in a particular way. We all adapt to one another’s patterns and that’s simply how relationships work. So when someone has spent years being accommodating, available, helpful or endlessly understanding, that’s what people become used to. 

And when that person changes their pattern, the relationship changes too.

Some relationships seem to adjust quite naturally to those developing changes. Some flourish and our growth is cherished within the relationship. Others don’t adjust easily, or find themself in conflict and some relationships sadly don’t survive. 

It’s really challenging when our relationships begin to feel uncomfortable. The assumption many of us make is that this means something has gone wrong or that we’re doing something wrong.

If people are unhappy when we say no, we might assume we are being selfish. If someone is disappointed, perhaps we feel we’ve made a mistake. Or if a relationship feels different, perhaps we believe we’ve damaged it.

These moments may pull us back to our familiar ways, but actually these moments can be pivotal points of learning about ourself, relationships and in particular who we are in the relationships around us. They are an opportunity to stay steady, and observe.

Becoming more ourself often involves letting go of identities we once relied upon:
The reliable one. The easy-going one. The fixer. The peacemaker. The one who never needs anything. The one who keeps everyone happy.

These identities rarely appear from nowhere. Most of them served a purpose at some point and helped us feel that we belong. They helped us feel valued and they helped us navigate families, friendships, workplaces and communities.

They became part of how we understood ourselves. And if they still feel good, then who’s to say we should be any different. But when these identities no longer fit us, no longer serve us, then usually we seek to change them – consciously or otherwise. And that can feel surprisingly unsettling.

Even when the change is positive - necessary even - part of us may still miss who we used to be. Not because that version of us was healthier, but because it was familiar.

I sometimes think we underestimate how much of our lives are shaped by an ongoing negotiation between authenticity and belonging.

Popular culture tends to present authenticity as though it should be easy: Just be yourself. Say what you think. Stop caring what other people think. Live your truth.

But the trouble is that human beings are relational creatures. We are wired for connection and we are affected by acceptance and rejection. We care about what happens in our relationships because relationships matter.

So when people confidently declare that they don’t care whether anyone likes them, I often wonder whether that is entirely true. Maybe it is, but maybe it’s also another form of self-protection.

For many of us, I suspect the reality is more nuanced and that we do care, deeply.

We care what our family thinks. We care whether our friends understand us. We care whether the people we love approve of our decisions.

We care because connection matters.

I’m not convinced that the goal is to get to a place where we don’t care about other people’s opinions. I wonder if it’s more about caring without handing over responsibility for who we are?

Can we tolerate disappointment, disagreement or misunderstanding without abandoning ourselves in response?

Can we acknowledge the pull of belonging without allowing it to dictate every choice we make?

I don’t think these questions have nice neat answers and that’s because authenticity and belonging are both legitimate human needs.

Most of us DO want to be accepted. Most of us also want to be known and seen for who we truly are. 

In some relationships those desires sit comfortably alongside one another. In others they don’t.

There are moments in life when becoming more fully ourselves means discovering that certain expectations that we accepted now no longer fit.

We carry with us the ideas about the kind of friend, parent, partner, sibling, colleague, neighbour or family member we should be. We carry ideas about the relationships we should have and what they should look like. Those expectations come from other people, environments we spend time in, culture and the societal systems in place around us.

Often, we don’t realise how strongly we’re holding these expectations until we begin to question them.

Doing so, and choosing not to bend to those expectations, can feel like loss. It IS a loss. It’s not necessarily the loss of the relationship itself, but the loss of the imagined version we had of what it was or could be. It’s the loss of the hoped-for version and the story we were telling ourselves about how things would be.

And that’s the grief that we might feel in accepting what is instead of continuing to chase what we thought should or could be.

Letting go sits alongside becoming; letting go of what no longer fits, where we thought we should be, or who we thought we ought to be.

Becoming ourself is an ongoing process of returning to ourselves. It’s an ongoing questioning of inherited assumptions and it’s a continual balancing of our need for connection with our need for integrity.

I think it’s less about fully resolving the tension between fitting in and being authentic and more about becoming able to live within that tension.

It’s about recognising that we may care what people think and yet still uphold our boundaries. Or we might feel the pull of old expectations and still choose differently.

The process of becoming ourself is where we find the strength in being ourself. I think there's something quietly remarkable about a person who keeps choosing themselves anyway — friction, grief and all.

It's not easy. But neither is staying small. And I know which one I'd rather be ‘wrecked’ by.