Authenticity Isn’t Easy—But It’s Everything

People often compliment me on how authentic I am. They tell me I’m brave, bold, even inspiring. But what they don’t always see is how hard-won that authenticity truly is—how much of it is rooted in conviction, and how much courage it continues to require every single day.

The truth is, I struggled with authenticity for a very long time. For most of my life, I was constantly trying to fit into someone else’s mold. I became a master of code-switching, of reading the room, of morphing myself into what others expected of me. I got really good at being who people wanted me to be—at work, in community, even with friends. But I paid for that talent with silence, with shame, and with an erasure of self that no one really talks about.

As a queer person, the cost of authenticity has always felt incredibly high. I have sacrificed parts of myself—my voice, my joy, my truth—out of fear. Fear of what others might say. Fear of what they might do. Fear of how they might wield their discomfort, their power, or even their silence, against me. And yet, hiding never brought safety. It only brought invisibility.

That’s why today, when I show up in the fullness of who I am—unapologetic, vocal, queer—it is not because I’m fearless. It’s because I’ve made a choice. A choice to stop shrinking. A choice to lead with truth. A choice to live with integrity, even when it’s uncomfortable.

And that’s what authenticity is: not just being yourself, but doing so with intentionality and integrity, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

This is what organizations need more of.

Authenticity isn’t a buzzword. It’s not about telling people to “bring their whole selves to work” and then punishing them for being different. It’s not about rainbow logos in June and performative allyship the rest of the year. True authenticity requires cultures of safety. It demands brave leadership. And it flourishes only when people are valued not in spite of their differences, but because of them.

When authenticity is nurtured, people thrive. Innovation grows. Collaboration deepens. Trust becomes real. But most importantly, authenticity allows people to stop surviving and start belonging.

And let’s be honest: authenticity isn’t always neat or easy. It challenges the status quo. It disrupts toxic norms. It asks hard questions and sometimes makes people uncomfortable. But in that discomfort is where transformation lives.

My journey to authenticity is ongoing. I still stumble. I still navigate systems that weren’t designed for people like me. But every time I choose to show up as myself, I reclaim something I was told I had to hide. I make space for someone else to do the same. And I challenge the organizations I’m part of to not just tolerate authenticity—but to make it a core value.

If we want more honest, inclusive, and just workplaces, then we have to stop asking people to leave their truth at the door. We must build cultures where authenticity is seen not as a risk—but as a gift.

Because when people stop hiding, they start shining. And that changes everything.