Another networking invitation landed in my inbox last week. Somewhere in the third paragraph: “You have to be your authentic self.”I’ve read or heard some version of that line a hundred times. I used to nod along. This time I almost barfed.
The conventional wisdom
Authenticity seems to be the advice for anyone trying to build relationships. Be yourself. Show up as you really are. It sounds like wisdom. It gets repeated at every networking event, every LinkedIn post about “bringing your whole self to work.”
But here’s the truth: authenticity, taken on its own, is a self-centered place to stand.
Think about what the word is actually asking you to focus on. Not the other person. Not their needs, their fears, what keeps them up at night. It’s asking you to focus on you — on being recognizably, consistently, unapologetically you. That’s not a relationship goal.
The Popeye problem
“I am who I am.” Popeye said it decades before authenticity became a buzzword, and he wasn’t wrong, he just wasn’t finished. I yam what I yam. Fine. Good for you. Who cares?
Now what?
That’s the question authenticity never answers, because authenticity is self-centered. It tells you who you get to be. It says nothing about what the other person needs from you. And in any real relationship: a client, a spouse, a team member, a friend, the question that matters isn’t “am I being myself?” It’s “what does this person need from me right now, and am I willing to give it?”
That is not the same question. Sometimes what someone needs is patience; that’s not yours, naturally. Sometimes it’s a version of you that’s more disciplined or more generous than your unfiltered self would be. Authenticity, if left unchecked, gives you permission to skip that work.
Where the focus belongs
Every relationship worth having asks the same question: where is the attention pointed? At me, or at you? The minute I’m managing my own authenticity, or curating how “real” I appear, the focus has already shifted to me. And the other person feels it.
The consultants and advisors who earn trust aren’t the ones who show up as their most unfiltered selves. They’re the ones who ask what a client or colleague actually needs — clarity, courage, a hard truth delivered kindly. And then they work to become capable of providing regardless of if it comes naturally or not. That’s not inauthenticity. That’s service. It’s the difference between a vendor, who shows up as himself and expects that to be enough, and a trusted advisor, who shows up for someone else.
A better question than “am I being authentic?”
Try this instead: “What does the person across from me need, and am I willing to become someone capable of giving it?”
That question doesn’t ask you to fake anything. It asks you to grow toward something, for someone else’s benefit, not your own comfort. Authenticity protects your identity. Service asks you to expand it.
So the next time an invitation tells you to be your authentic self, ask a better question first: authentic for whom?
This post is inspired by conversations with my friend, Dr. Tom Tonkin.
