What Happens When You’re Tired of Looking Like You Have It All Together?

Someone asks how you're doing.

“Good!”

How's work?

“Good!”

How are the kids?

“Good!”

Everything okay?

“Yep!”

Meanwhile, you got irritated over something ridiculous this morning, there's a pile of laundry somewhere in your house that has become part of the furniture, you're questioning at least three decisions you've made recently and you have absolutely no idea what you're making for dinner.

Good.

Obviously.

I don't think most of us are intentionally pretending. Sometimes “I'm good” is simply easier than explaining the whole thing, and nobody needs the unabridged version of our lives every time they ask how we're doing.

But I do think there's a difference between having privacy and feeling like we have to maintain an image.

I've felt that pressure.

Especially in seasons where I was showing up publicly, building something or helping other people, there was this quiet expectation I put on myself that I should look like I had figured out whatever I was talking about.

I should be polished. Consistent. Positive. Put together.

Otherwise, who was I to say anything?

The problem is that maintaining a polished version of yourself takes work.

You start editing what people see. Then you start editing what you say. Maybe eventually you stop talking about the parts of your life that don't fit the version people have come to expect.

And after a while, there can be a little too much distance between the woman everyone thinks they're interacting with and the woman actually living the life.

That's where integrity has become much more interesting to me.

I used to think of integrity mostly as doing the right thing when nobody is watching. I still think that's part of it.

But I think there's another layer:

Does the person I present match the person I'm actually trying to be?

Not perfectly.

That's impossible.

I mean, please don't come inspect my life looking for brand consistency.

You will find dishes.

But is there congruence?

In customer experience work, we talk about creating a consistent experience wherever someone interacts with a brand. The website can't promise one thing while the actual customer experience delivers something completely different.

People notice that gap. Maybe not immediately, but eventually.

And I think we feel that gap in ourselves too.

If I'm telling everyone how important boundaries are while saying yes to everything in my own life, I feel it. If I'm talking about being present while checking my phone through dinner, I feel it.

If I'm encouraging other women to stop performing while privately believing I have to perform for them?

Yep.

I feel that too.

That doesn't make me a fraud.

It makes me unfinished.

And I think that's an important distinction.

Integrity doesn't require me to have mastered everything I talk about. It asks me to be honest about where I actually am.

There's a huge difference between saying, “Here's what I've figured out,” and saying, “Here's what I'm learning.”

The second one leaves room to be a person.

And maybe that's why I keep coming back to the idea of showing up from the middle. Not waiting until I'm on the other side of every struggle before I'm allowed to talk about it, and not pretending I have answers I don't have.

Just being honest enough that the woman you meet here resembles the woman you'd meet sitting across from me at a table.

Maybe your version has nothing to do with showing up publicly.

Maybe you're the strong one in your family. The capable one at work. The friend who has it together. The mom everybody asks for advice.

And somewhere along the way, the role became something you felt responsible for maintaining.

What would happen if you didn't?

I'm not suggesting we unload everything on everybody. Privacy matters. Discernment matters.

But maybe integrity sometimes looks less like being impressive and more like being congruent.

Letting “I'm having a hard week” be an acceptable answer.

Saying “I don't know.”

Admitting you're learning something you once thought you'd already figured out.

Changing your mind.

Being the same person in the places where nobody is impressed by you.

I think that's the kind of influence that lasts anyway. Not because everyone sees you, but because the people who do can trust what they're seeing.

And maybe that's enough.

You don't have to look like you have it all together to have something meaningful to offer.

You just have to let the person you're showing us stay close enough to the person you actually are that you don't lose yourself trying to maintain the distance.

Want to keep going with this conversation?
🎧 Listen to Episode 26: How Integrity Becomes the Force Behind Your Influence →