Writing as a Practice in Honesty

I've been journaling since 2003, and somewhere around 2010, I started blogging too. Over the years, I've had a bunch of different iterations of a blog with different purposes - some I was conscious of, others not so much. Sometimes I'd try to be funny, sometimes I was basically preaching whatever I thought was right which was probably a way to find validation for my thoughts.

With this current iteration, I've got a few different things going on that I'll write about in separate posts, but one of the main priorities is the practice of honesty - something that came from a realization about myself.

I’ve always been sort of proud of being this social chameleon. Like, I could hang out with all these different social crowds and just blend in. But there was this huge downside I didn’t see: I was never really myself. I was always putting on some kind of performance, tweaking who I was based on who I was talking to. The wild part is, I only recently had this full-on realization—it wasn’t like I was trying to deceive anyone. I always thought of myself as an honest and authentic person. But this whole chameleon thing was happening completely under the surface, without me even being conscious of it.

Being around people all the time while playing this role was exhausting, but I didn’t even realize how draining it was back then. The only times I’d really tune into my true frequency were during those rare days off in the woods (ok maybe also with the few people I’m really close to). And when that happened, it was pure bliss. It felt like being connected with god, like I was god, with all my emotional and sensory floodgates wide open.

I have a theory that a lot of people who consider themselves introverts aren’t really introverts. They’re just not showing up as their honest selves, and that’s what makes social situations so exhausting. It’s not people that drain you—it’s pretending.

I’ve had so many conversations with my friend Arshak about what honesty really means, and we’ve come up with all sorts of interpretations. But the way I’m using it here is about getting to know myself at my core and accepting whatever I find there, whether I like it or not.

This isn’t a quick fix where you just decide one day to “be honest.” Most of us don’t really know our honest selves without doing serious introspection / meditation. It’s like excavating through layers of habits, identities, and defenses that build up over the years. You have to sit with yourself, get uncomfortable, and question your patterns—those reactions and “natural” responses that might not be so natural after all (I wrote about this here).

And then comes the second part: putting that true self out in the open, as best as I can.

Writing about who I am at my core and putting it out there acts like an anchor. It keeps me from drifting into old chameleon habits. When I meet someone new, they might’ve already read my blog, so I can’t pretend to be someone else—and honestly, I love that. Sometimes it’s hard because what I truly believe might not vibe with certain people, but I can’t hide. That version of me is already out there, and that keeps me honest.

Some of the stuff I post feels straight-up excruciating to share, and a lot of it feels cringy, probably because the stuff that's most real about us isn't neat or polished. It's the messy, awkward, not-so-perfect bits we usually keep to ourselves.

I think these raw edges of who we are—these “imperfect” parts—might actually be the most interesting bits to share, as they likely sit closer to the edge of our real identities. Polished, sanitized content is everywhere, but sharing these vulnerable bits tends to create deeper connections than any perfectly curated version of ourselves ever could.

So even though it feels uncomfortable, as long as it’s honest to who I am, I feel both proud and oddly happy to push myself through the discomfort of sharing it. This is the only way forward.

It takes some serious balls to be honest. I’m learning that right now, like in real-time. Sharing who you are at your core isn’t easy, it’s uncomfortable as hell. It’s one thing to find that honest version of yourself, but putting it out there for people to see? That’s next-level hard. Every time I do it, though, it feels like a tiny victory.

This whole thing has been super cathartic, even though my blog doesn't have many readers. Just knowing that my honest self is out there keeps me in check. I'm way more honest with people and myself now, and it feels so much less taxing on my body and mind. Being around people takes way less energy these days, and the surprising thing is that people tend to be more accepting of the real me.

Being honest with myself feels like finally breathing with my full lungs after years of shallow breaths. This isn't just about writing or social interactions - it's about creating a life where you don't have to constantly maintain different versions of yourself. Where you can just... be. And I think that's what we're all here for—not just to get by, but to show up fully, for ourselves and for the world. When you align with yourself, everything fits better. Life feels lighter, and the energy flows. It's like you've finally stopped swimming against the current and started floating with it.

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