Aristotle, the infamous Greek philosopher, once said, “Humans are social animals.” Due to the fundamental nature of what it means to be a human being living among others, it is instinctive for us to find people who speak to us and who we are, creating a sense of community in a world where we are much alike in many ways, yet still undeniably individual.
This is the foundation, and it’s what softens the tumultuous nature of just being a person — it’s almost necessary. However, what happens when we choose a community that we know doesn’t resonate with us? Despite knowing that we have to put on a “performance” to fit in, why do we stick around?
The First Act
Being human is complicated because our brains are complex. In fact, scientists consider our neurology the most complex entity in the universe. Our brains contain billions of neurons. Between these neurons are small, pathway-like gaps that allow them to connect. These connections create neural circuits that branch off from other circuits. This develops an ecosystem of behaviors, and our “reward hormones,” like dopamine and serotonin, influence these behaviors.
It’s important to understand these functions because our relationships create these pathways. Neurons that fire together will wire together. Once these connections form, it’s more likely that they’ll occur in the future. Our experience literally shapes our biology.
Imagine some of the first connections our brains make are wired for a need for approval, whether from our caretakers or early friends. This approval becomes part of our survival strategy, influenced by our neural circuits. The parts of the brain that process rejection and fear, like the amygdala, also play a role. These can overfunction in response to difficult life experiences, triggering an overactive fight-or-flight response.
We have an inherent desire for others to accept us, but experiencing trauma early in life can affect how we relate to people. Therefore, we should engage with the stigma around performance — the natural unappealingness for a lot of people whose authenticity comes easily to them — using our curiosity. It’s normal to explore ourselves, our interests, and our passions. Our curiosity can open doors for us, helping us find parts of ourselves instead of losing sight of them. However, we’ve all, at some point in our lives, behaved outside of our values, interests, or truths for the sake of feeling safe from rejection or alienation. This happens because you’re human, and it can be exacerbated in some people. Holding space for the basic biological functions that contribute to our social behaviors is the first step toward resolving the disconnection from our authenticity.
Recognizing the Performance and Exiting the Stage
Recognizing the act is the hard part. We’re not always aware of the performance. Or the performance feels so necessary to succeed socially that we haven’t yet realized the extent of our dishonesty with ourselves. And in the moment that we do, a lot of emotions follow, and they’re not always empowering us to find our authenticity. Sometimes, they make us feel guilty, ashamed, or uncomfortable, catapulting us into a reflective phase in which kindness and compassion for ourselves are absent. But it’s important to remember the neuroscience behind it and how your social psychology is influenced by it. You didn’t perform just to perform. You performed to reassure a need in your nervous system.
For those who face the discomfort, who sit in and stare at it as if it has two heads and speaks to you, you’ll probably feel everything. You’ll ask yourself emotionally challenging questions, and some of them won’t be necessary. Some of us will be harder on ourselves than others, especially those with nervous systems that already feel dysregulated. You should know that the power to ask yourself hard questions, to face inauthenticity from a place of curiosity and a desire to make change, is all the reassurance you need. You’re capable of expansion.
Understand that this show doesn’t have to go on. You don’t even have to show up for the same audience again. Your changes don’t have to be loud or obvious to that audience, especially if they were an unnecessarily tough crowd that only fueled that drive for their approval. Exit stage left, and whatever door you walk out of, even if unknown, there is plenty of time to figure out who you are and who your people are. And the great part about those neural circuits is that every relationship you create will develop new ones. Finding authenticity and good people will literally rewire your brain.
Performance over. Curtains closed.
