Drinking makes me puke, cussing makes me studder...

Rambling mumbo-jumbo... but I've just got to get out some of these thoughts.

Mark and I were visiting a friend a month ago. During one conversation, he was describing this person he met as "authentic"--explaining that he would cuss and stuff in front of our friend, a pastor. The guy was authentic because he just acted like himself, I guess. Our friend spoke about him almost in awe--it was clear that he respected the guy for being "real" when most people are probably on their best behavior while in the presence of a minister.

I do understand my friend's appreciation for someone that would be himself, since as a pastor, he probably notices people are trying to act perfect in front of him. But I just wonder--what does it really mean to be authentic? That guy cussed in front of a minister and it made him authentic. If I act badly, does that mean I'm being authentic? Do I just have to act like myself--hide nothing, and pretend to be nothing else?

Well, I feel like I've spent the better part of my years trying (notice the emphasis) to lose myself and become someone better. Dying to self. This is what I should be doing, right?--I really don't like my greediness, jealousy, control-freak-ness (that's not a word... sorry), or my laziness, lack of discipline, my self-centeredness... But does exposing these things make me "authentic"?

I think the problem is more about connecting. My friend valued someone's honesty, even if it meant cussing--not changing his vernacular purely based on his company--because it meant he got to connect with the real person. We don't need to show off our most vulgar tendencies, but rather focus on actually connecting. It seems that we are hardly honest with each other, because we are always trying to show off our best parts--carefully hiding the things about ourselves that we don't like. But what if we were more open with each other--let our friends see us for who we are, help us when we are hurting, and receive our help in return?

My friend Sara was telling me about the "Impostor Syndrome"--that feeling that if people really knew you, they would find out that you aren't as good as you seem. You feel like you're faking everyone--like you've tricked them into thinking your the person that they see.

I definitely have felt this way before, and have seen others close to me feel this way. I have been thinking about why I feel that way sometimes, and I've come up with a few reasons:

1. I tend to take credit for God's work in me. Instead, I should be grateful and joyful that God is doing good things in my life, that I desire to follow him and that I do my best in allowing him to lead me (which requires help from him).
2. I'm too worried about what people think of me.
3. I've seen people rejected, and I've been rejected, and it's hurtful. Of course I don't want to be rejected, so I fear people "finding me out" and not liking who I am.
4. We are not as caring, loving and accepting as Christ. I wish that I and the church as a whole would be more open and loving, seeing that God often exposes the bad to reveal the good (Larry Crabb). Sometimes... well, a lot of times, it seems like the people of the church are more concerned with appearances than godliness. It's quite hindering, I think.
5. There is a definite lack of "togetherness" among us. As Larry Crabb writes: "...the root of all our personal and emotional difficulties is a lack of togetherness, a failure to connect that keeps us from receiving life and prevents the life in us from spilling over into others."

After all that, I think I've realized that I just was jealous and self-centered. I wanted my friend to think I was "authentic," since I valued his opinion of me (too much maybe). See, I've never been a cusser or a drinker, even though, embarrassingly enough, I've tried. After the conversation with my friend, I concluded that if I was to be authentic, I'd have to cuss. That's what my immediate, very childish, reaction was. Of course I was just kidding myself, but I missed the point. The point was that my friend valued honesty and connection. That's what we all value, I'm convinced, and we're very deprived of it.