Embracing Authenticity


Shopping in a bustling grocery store on Thanksgiving Eve wasn’t how I envisioned my day off. A friend's desperate plea for turkey dinner ingredients, coupled with my inherent empathy, prompted me into action. While my empathetic nature has often led me into challenging situations, overcoming past hardships has made navigating present inconveniences a breeze.
Amidst the chaos of crowded aisles, I couldn't help but notice the sea of unfamiliar faces in what was once my sanctuary.
“Josh…?” A woman’s voice called out. My heart jumped.
As my head shifted toward the sound of my name, I instantly recognized the familiar face of the mother of a former high school friend. Her face had aged in the ten years since I’d last seen her, but she still dressed and carried herself the same.
"Hi… How are you?” I smiled politely despite the flood of memories triggered by hearing her voice.
I once overheard her scolding her son for hanging out with me. “He is a bad influence,” she said in her Indian accent. “You are too smart to be hanging out with him.”
That one always cut deep, but it was easy to shrug off since we both knew I made better grades than he did.
After inquiring about her family, I expected her to reciprocate. Instead, she continued, portraying my childhood friends as successful idols, despite our differing definitions of success.
The truth diverged from the idealized image. Few from my past attained such heights, and her son was not among them. Yet she implied I was wasting my potential, living a life she deemed unworthy.
Initially, her words evoked laughter within me, not with any disdain or mockery but with a deeper understanding. Yet, my amusement swiftly dissipated as I recognized the genuine belief behind her assertions.
Her definition of success was blatantly tethered to external validation, speaking volumes about her inner turmoil. It was evident that she grappled with a profound loss of identity, projecting her unresolved conflicts onto me.
“Um, are you laughing?” She interjected.
When pressed to explain the source of my amusement, given her perception of my ‘wasted’ existence, I responded gleefully, “I’m the most successful person I know.”
The face she presented wanted me to think that I was delusional, but I harbored no inclination to justify my stance. For what purpose would it serve?
Should I have painted a vivid picture of my journey from the depths of nihilistic despair to a life where every moment is cherished? Imagine emerging from the darkest abyss, reborn into a world where gratitude pulses through my veins with every heartbeat.
Imagine a childhood suffocated by secrets drowned in alcohol, encouraging me to self-medicate intravenously. Yet, from this painful trial, I emerged with a heart full of forgiveness and endless empathy for others.
Envision a life once clouded by the haze of substance abuse, where education was either numbed by narcotics or drowned in liquor. Yet, I broke free from these shackles, delving into self-study across diverse fields, writing a full-length book, producing five music albums, and dedicating myself to empowering others.
Consider societal pressure to conform or to become someone else for the sake of acceptance. Yet, I discovered that true acceptance blossoms within, becoming the cornerstone of my existence.
And now, imagine finding solace within myself, feeling at home wherever I roam, amidst a world clamoring for conformity.
If adversity is the crucible of achievement, then let me recount the immense trials I faced to become the effortless embodiment of myself. No, such explanations are not owed, not to her or anyone else. I comprehend the depths of my journey, and therein lies my triumph.
I define success by my authenticity, not external standards. Only I can measure the authenticity within me, unaffected by outside judgment. Would it resonate to discuss the self-acceptance I've found, surpassing the need for external validation that she still seeks?
Authenticity reigns as the purest form of success, and it's mine to embrace, not hers. As she persisted in using friends to define success externally, I couldn't bear to listen to her cling to such immaturity. I raised my hand and locked eyes to ensure she was focused.
“Okay...” I paused. “Glad you have all that going for you."
As I turned away from her puckered face, a smile spread across my mine. It took every ounce within me to not mutter any of the smartass comments that sat on the edge of my lips. If I had let them out however, I wouldn’t be any better than she. Her soured face left me satisfied enough.
I only wish for her to be happy, living life for herself and not for others. And if she never does, I'm fine with that, too. It’s her choice if she wants to limit her life to the sadness that it is; not mine.









© WaKeUpWoRLD