All The Versions We’ve Built to Survive

I think I have been fairly clear in all of my previous work that we have spent most of our lives trying to contort and conform in order to meet the status quo, to be loved, to be liked, to feel worthy. 

But how do we do that? Most of us didn’t wake up one day as a different person altogether just because we decided it was necessary for survival. 

The truth is we monitored ourselves.
We would notice how others responded to us and how their responses made us feel and then we would adjust for the next time. We would do this in mostly small imperceptible ways, chipping away at our unique edges because they felt too rough up against others. 

We were iterating on ourselves. 
Putting out one version, testing it with others, and making small adjustments hoping to fit. 

Even as a child, I remember looking at myself very intentionally and asking, Who should I be right now? And then trying to become that.

I spent most of my life iterating toward a version of myself I believed would be safest, most acceptable, most lovable. The cost? My boundaries. My authentic self.

That’s the tricky thing: boundary violations aren’t always loud. Sometimes they’re just a quiet turning away from your own needs, over and over again until you no longer resemble your true self.

This intense self-awareness, self-analysis, and incremental change is a skill many neurodivergent and marginalized people develop early, because we have to.

But for so long, we’ve used this power to iterate toward conformity.

The New Iteration

As we start to step into authenticity work we turn this hyper-awareness, self-analysis, and incremental superpower inward away from conformity, towards authenticity. 

You’ve got the skill set. You don’t have to let it go. Now, instead of using it to be palatable to everyone else, use your skills to come home to yourself. This benefits not only you, but society as a whole, the authentic community, not just a commercialized one.

In practice this looks like coming out of situations and asking yourself:
“Did I show up authentically?” 
“How do I feel coming out of that situation?”

Not every situation calls for this self-reflection, but you will know the ones that do. Because you are practicing your boundary work you will listen to what your body tells you.

Tight chest?
Shaky hands?
That’s data.

And that data is either going to tell you that you acted against your values, against your core truth, or that you stepped out of your comfort zone and stood in your integrity. 

Sometimes those two things feel the same in your body. This is why you need to continue to notice what comes after the discomfort. 

Is it guilt?
Is it pride?
Is it shame?
Is it calm?

Noticing this will help you answer the question “Did I show up authentically?”

When I was a freshman in high school I went on a field trip to the zoo. We were driven there by upperclassmen. I remember sitting in the passenger seat. While driving, some traffic violation happened, I don’t recall exactly what, only that the driver was frustrated and said, out loud, “DWO!” 

When asked what this meant he said, “Driving While Oriental.”

My chest tightened and my cheeks flushed. But I didn’t say anything. This not saying anything was a turning point for me and from this moment on, I started practicing speaking up against rhetoric that violated my boundaries or was out of alignment with my values.

But it took practice. And I did not get another chance to try this one again until I was in my mid-30s. I was going to lunch with coworkers and another of them was driving. As we inched through downtown looking for parking another driver flipped a u-turn in the middle of the road and had to do a multi-point turn, causing us to stop and wait. 

I could feel it coming, the pause, the breath before the punchline.

He opened his mouth and as he was saying “Driving while asian,” I was saying “no, don’t, don’t do it.” He finished with a laugh, and I said “not cool.” 

Now, I still came out of this with that tightness in my chest and flushed cheeks. Both because I spoke up when it would have been easier to remain quiet, and because I didn’t feel like I did enough. 

And I continue to practice speaking up.

This is what that iteration looks like.

These were small moments of truth. No one else likely remembered them. But I did, because they lived in my body. Authenticity doesn’t always arrive with some grand decision or declaration. Often, it breaks (or takes shape) in quiet, seemingly forgettable, fleeting interactions.

I am not sharing this story to prop myself up. I have the privilege of being a white woman in America and that affords me a lot. It is my obligation to leverage that privilege responsibly. That is part of my practice. And I have the space, time, and safety to iterate in this way.

Self-Trust and Honesty

This iteration practice requires not just action, but honesty. Honesty with others. And even more importantly, honesty with yourself.

Most of us aren't fully honest about our motivations in the moment. We react, respond, or justify, not only outwardly to others, but inwardly to ourselves.

For example:

Maybe you cut someone off in traffic and tell yourself, they sped up when I turned on my blinker or the car in front of me stopped suddenly. But if you're being honest, maybe you just weren’t paying attention. Maybe you moved too fast. Maybe you simply made a mistake.

It feels small. But practicing honesty in small moments matters. Because when the big moments come, the ones that ask for real integrity, you’ll already know how to listen.

There will be obvious opportunities to act in alignment: speaking up when someone says something offensive, or refusing to join in when someone is bullied.

But there will also be less-obvious ones. The moments where no one is watching but you.

Authenticity isn’t just about how we show up outwardly. It’s about the quiet accountability we hold inwardly, in the places no one else can see.

It’s about noticing:
Am I acting from fear, or truth?
Am I protecting an image, or honoring my values?

The only way to trust yourself fully is to know yourself fully. And knowing yourself starts with telling yourself the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Tomorrow, we'll explore these small moments even further and how they quietly shape the life we’re building.

Reflect Prompts:

• What version of myself have I learned to present in order to feel safe, accepted, or successful?

• When was the last time I adjusted myself (tone, words, behavior) to avoid discomfort or rejection?

• How do I physically experience misalignment?

• What happens in my body when I do speak up or act in alignment with my values?

• What would it look like to use my pattern-recognition and self-awareness not for conformity, but for truth-telling?