Why You Shouldn’t Be Yourself

Peter Moran
Sep 7, 2018 · 5 min read

“Remember” called Basic Becky to her annoying friend, Lonely Lucy. “Just be yourself!” Basic Becky’s reminder to Lucy as she headed out to meet her date was nothing new; this advice had been passed from mentor to mentee for ages. But Lonely Lucy was tired of it. Being herself had led to far too many tear-filled moments alone in her car for to continue. See, Lucy was a low-caliber human being. She was wildly impatient, stirringly bad conversationally, as interesting as the small talk you have with a friend of a friend when your mutual friend leaves the room, and her IQ was low enough that she should be embarrassed but she wasn’t smart enough to realize just how embarrassingly low it was. All in all, she was far from a catch and her friends hated her. However, Lucy knew exactly what she wanted and she hatched a plan to get it. Lucy wanted a man to like her. She wanted to parade him around in front of her friends, introduce him to her parents, take candid pictures of him and post them to her Instagram and maybe even converse with him and get to know him. To accomplish her goal, she had to make herself appealing, and since she was so impatient, so the self-improvement route was out of the question –she didn’t have time for that. She could put on a façade, though. If she manipulated her date –we’ll call him Brad — into falling for her by hiding her worst traits, presenting the most likable version of herself to the guy — we’ll call him Brad — before slowly reverting back to her normal self only after emotionally hooking him and leaving him constantly seeking her approval in hope of one day reliving the glory that was their honeymoon phase. Chase that dragon, Brad!

“Always remember to be yourself,” my mom reminded me as I headed to my freshman year dorm. That’s not true; she probably said something a lot closer to “Hang your pants up the way I showed you” or something much more practical. She’s a smart woman. But the advice to be yourself is one that has been mindlessly passed on from mentor to mentee for as long as people have known they even had a different option. It makes sense in plenty of ways, sure. First, how could you be someone else? Just like telling the truth is easier than lying because you don’t have a lie to corroborate everything else with, being yourself is far more natural an action than putting on a show. Second, a little self-esteem never hurt anyone (except countless arrogant, selfish maniacs, but let’s pretend they don’t exist for the sake of my shaky stance here). It’s certainly beneficial to own the person you are, accept that some people will never like you for who you are and that you’ll attract only those who truly appreciate you for yourself, thus efficiently guiding your relationships and weeding out poorly-intentioned others. However, we’re all flawed individuals. We have wrong desires, poor opinions, terrible fashion and equally unappealing friends. Frankly put, we’re a mess and have a lot to improve upon and continuing to “be ourself” will lead us toward a life of complacency in our mediocrity. One situation in which people tend to use that phrase is dating relationships. “You just have to be yourself,” Basic Becky consoled her friend, Lonely Lucy who had just endured her third disastrous Tinder date of the week. Lonely Lucy knew that being herself meant being aggressively demanding, loud and inappropriate in public, terribly unhygienic and unapologetically self-absorbed. If I continue to be myself she agreed with Becky, I’ll finally find a man that appreciates me for who I am. I just need to be more patient. Of course, she wasn’t patient, because she wasn’t a patient person and being herself meant continuing to be impatient (as well as being a generally terrible person). Now, logic would suggest she work on herself. Perhaps Lucy should see a therapist, discover some underlying issues she’s dealing with and address them. Find out if the consistent nature of her failed relationship weren’t coincidental but had something to do with her behavior. Lastly, after finding out why she is the way she is, Lucy would make steps towards being happier with who she is and simultaneously lose some of the desire she was feeling to be in a relationship. After all, one of her outstanding flaws was her general discontentment. If she hadn’t found any satisfaction prior to getting into the right relationship, was her unhappiness really going to be fixed by a warm body? Of course not.

But let’s put that aside and discuss another route for Lucy. I’ll concede that such logic would be a viable choice for her and would ultimately increase her happiness, but I think if we look at Lucy’s ultimate motivation we can find another route. Lucy wants a man to like her. She wants to parade him around in front of her friends, introduce him to her parents, take candid pictures of him and post them to her Instagram and maybe even converse with him and get to know him. To accomplish her goal, she has to make herself appealing, and we’ve already mentioned the fact that she’s impatient, so the self-improvement route can be ignored; she doesn’t have time for that. What if she just put on a façade, though? What if she manipulated her next target into falling for her by hiding her worst traits, presenting the most likable version of herself to the guy — we’ll call him Brad — before slowly reverting back to her normal self only after emotionally hooking him and leaving him constantly seeking her approval in hope of one day reliving the glory that was their honeymoon phase. Chase that dragon, Brad! No, the plan isn’t foolproof, but Lucy has been in the game too long to not try something new. Basic Becky begs Lucy not to do it, convincing her that she’ll only end up in a relationship based on lies and that if it was true love Brad would love her for who she is and not who she pretends to be. At least that’s how it always works in the movies. Lucy ignores Becky and seduces Brad with her fake charm. “Oh, you’re a football fan?” she states, nodding enthusiastically as her extra layer of gorgeously toned makeup hides her grimace at the thought of him shirtless, screaming the name of his favorite player alongside seventy-thousand mindless buffoons. The first date goes well, never mind the fact that she faked every compliment, resisted multiple urges to scream at him to shut up and almost threw her food back up when he suggested they split the check. He liked her. A few more interactions just like that and Brad was starting to look at her in a way she wasn’t used to, and she liked it. She liked it a lot more than she liked crying in her car after “always remembering to be herself” had scared away her prior dates. Sure, she had to compromise. She had to fake her personality, lie constantly about the things she liked and disliked and provide reassurance to someone she hardly respected, but she got what she wanted. So, anyways, sometimes being yourself isn’t the best option.