Authenticity and “fitting in” are often framed as opposites.

But I don’t think they are opposite at all. (As is often the case. Things just look that way when viewed with less distinction.)

Here’s why I think so:

What Is Fitting In?

You could define “fitting in” as:

A) being socially compatible with the group

B) appearing the same as everyone else

C) being accepted by the space/culture

Most people have parts of themselves which, when openly expressed, don’t appear the same as everyone else. (Obviously, otherwise we’d all be clones.)

The process of individuation—which ideally happens in adolescence—is when we get clearer on what those parts seem to be:

What seems to be uniquely “us” and not a product of “the norm”?

The funny thing is:

This process usually happens by aligning with different sub- or countercultures that position themselves against the norm—finding parts of ourselves that feel true in them.

When we think of that, our mind may conjure up images of college kids going through a goth, joke or surfer phase which to them feels like “claiming” their individuated identity while to the outside world, it looks like the exact opposite.

But this process of finding our own identity by trying to match it to collective identities often continues way into adulthood (and sometimes forever).

It’s almost like trying on different clothes to see which group we “fit in” with.

Until eventually, (ideall), some clearer sense of self emerges, which doesn’t need to identify with a group but can find its place in the collective regardless.

Misconceptions About “Fitting In”

If we look back at the possible definitions of “fitting in”, one of those three is not like the others (should I say “one of them doesn’t fit in”—or is that too easy of a joke?).

Let’s recap:

Definition A: being socially compatible with the group

Definition B: appearing the same as everyone else

Definition C: being accepted by the space/culture

What option A and C have in common is that they describe whether an individual has found “their place” within a collective. But option B only describes whether it looks like they found their place, even if they didn’t.

It’s common for people who try to fit in to overinvest in definition B, and not realize definition A and C are possible.

It’s also common for people who dislike social conformity to aggressively push back against definition B, and not realize that the collective isn’t actually demanding of us to embody option B.

Even if it appears otherwise, the collective only wants you to embody option A. (Option C is simply an outcome of A and/or B).

And, even if it appears otherwise, the collective would benefit more from you embodying option A and not B, than B and not A.

Because option B with out A is the realm of spies, infiltrants, sociopath, and kind-hearted people with social anxiety (which makes their behavior harder to predict and understand for the non-axious).

But option A without B is what happens when someone does something outlandish that most others would be judged harshly for, and the consensus response is:

“Oh, well. That’s just Bob!”

So who’d you rather be? A spychopath? Or just Bob?*

(*”Bobesse”, “Bobix”, and other names available if they suit your gender better. In fact, may I be so kind to suggest the name: “Boob”?)

Why Authenticity Isn’t the Same as Standing Out

A pitfall of authenticity is highlighting the parts of us that go against the grain to celebrate our liberation from the perceived oppression of the “norm”.

But ironically, when doing this, we let our behavior be dictated by the norm. The norm decides which parts of us are counter to it. So the norm decides which parts of us we suddenly “desire to express”. It’s no different than highlighting the parts which fit in.

(Of course, it’s still possible to polarize yourself against the norm—not because you’re authentically expressing something about your identity, but because you’re authentically expressing a desire to rebel. But let’s not go down too many rabbit holes today. That’s for my next post.)

I’m not suggesting that rebellion against the norm is inauthentic. Just that the 2 are often confused.

Expressing ourselves authentically means doing so irrespective of whether it makes us fit in or not. Ad ideally, still expressing it with some awareness of how this may impact the others you share a space with. Which makes you socially compatible without having to be inauthentic—A.K.A. fitting in..

I know a lot of people who express disdain or judgment of “normies” and how much they “hide their true self”.

But I also know a lot of so-called normies who are highly authentic. It’s just that their behavior and personality is normal—and they don’t try to convince themselves they should be anything else. Which is a great quality.

(You could even argue that, when the culture celebrates individualism and having an epic life, normies are paradoxically the biggest rebels.)

So perhaps instead of asking ourselves: “Who would you be if you knew that no one would judge you?” , a better question could be: “Who would you be if there was no norm to orient yourself towards?”

Or to play with an ongoing inquiry:

“Who am I right now? Do I believe that breaks the norm? What do I desire/care for more deeply right now? To express that? Or to minimize social risk?” –

Whichever answer comes out, will be the authentic thing. Because yes, the part of you that doesn’t want to take social risks is also a part of you.

The truth is, both the desire for belonging and the desire for self-expression are part of who we are.

Whether we seek connection, stand out, or manage social risks, our choices can be authentic.

Authenticity doesn’t come from one specific bold action; it comes from being aware of our own experience and expressing it in a way that’s aligned with who we are in that moment.

Which sometimes can be a bit weird, but it can also be the most normal, ordinary thing in the world.

Resisting Authority

This is probably a topic that warrants its own blog post. But its still relevant to the desire for being oneself to have to mean “standing out”.

When we perceive large scale social conditioning as a force that has power over us, it can start to feel like an authority figure we distrust and have to stand up against. (Hence, not trusting that “normies” can be authentic. Or defaulting to the idea that norms are oppressive and we shouldn’t follow them—despite some of those norms likely reflecting behaviors and qualities which are authentic to us too.)

The thing is:

“Your relationship to authority covers the authority within yourself too.”

Someone who read this on X (, asked me: “What does it mean when you hate authority then?”

If this question is on your mind too:

I can’t say what certainty what it means for you (since you are the biggest authority on what it’s like to be you—which could give youe a clue), but I can share what was the case for me.

I’ve detested authority for many years, and that worldview kept being reinforced by the experiences I’ve had with it.

To summarize it without going on a tangent, these were the symptoms:

• fixated on abuse of authority
• fixated on perceived stupidity or incompetence in people in a position of authority
• completely blind to generative authority
• sense of powereless, and blaming authority for keeping others disempowered
• strong suppressed yearning for a positive authority figure to “show me the way” out of my current situation (took me years to realize—will definitely write more in depth about this at some point)
• occasionally projected that figure on things (habits, books, projects) — creating the illusion they’d be the “path I could follow that would tell me what to do”
• often placed the responsibility for my situation outside of myself (“someone else is the authority and they did it wrong” or “the situation stops me from doing what I need to do”)
• fixated on my strengths, what set me apart from others, and on wanting that to become my career

These were the likely causes:

• being scared of the authority inside mysel
• judging it exactly the same way as I judged it in others ( That it shouldn’t make mistakes, look stupid or be incompetent and that anything anyone would be unhappy with would be “my fault”, etc.)
• proxy authorities (like following a strict diet over listening to my body) would help me affirm to myself I was on the right path and taking responsibility for my life, while technically still outsourcing it
• if I could make a career out of my unique abilities, others could affirm me as the authority because of them (this was a sneaky way to not have to respect my inner authority, because if I would ever fail, I could say “I never made myself the authority, you made me one”—placing the responsibility outside myself again)

In short, the whole thing was a constant avoidance of trusting my own authority.

Interestingly, one of the things that helped me find it was to start respecting other people’s authority more.

Not blindly following. But acknowledging that often, the people in positions of authority over me sometimes knew a bunch of stuff I didn’t.

While also acknowledging they were humans with flaws, like me, and they’d make seemingly stupid mistakes, or their shadow would get the best of them sometimes.

I wouldn’t hate them for it anymore. Because I’d also realize the risk that came with the position.

By being more forgiving towards them, my own risk-tolerance for claiming my own authority increased (because I knew I’d forgive myself too, should I make any inevitable mistakes).

Here’s to the freedom to be exactly who you are—and to not needing that to match anyone’s idea of what freedom and authenticity should look like either 😉

P.S. One of the many hidden purposes of the book I published last December is to guide you towards more inner authority, and authenticity. The ebook version is ridulously cheap, you can get it on paperback or kindle here.