I'm Too Much, and I'm Okay With That

The more I model authenticity, the more it gives others permission to do the same. It's like a contagious yawn, but instead of sleep, it's vulnerability. I walk into a formal party, not necessarily rocking a ballgown when everyone else is, maybe I'm in a sharp pantsuit or a dress that’s a bit more… me… and suddenly, everyone's shedding their perfectly curated party personas like snakes shedding skin. It's glorious. And slightly terrifying.

I become a walking permission slip for people to drop the act. Suddenly, the CEO is confessing his crippling fear of public speaking, the impeccably dressed colleague is admitting she cries during reality TV, and my cousin is finally telling me what she really thinks. Turns out, my unapologetic refusal to tolerate nonsense has sparked a bit of envy.

It's like I'm a human truth serum, but instead of making people spill secrets, I make them spill their souls. Which, can be a mixed bag.

On one hand, it's rewarding. With clients, this unfiltered authenticity can be gold. It creates a space of trust where they feel safe to explore their deepest fears & desires. It's like I've unlocked a secret door to their inner world, and we can finally get to the real work.

My openness about my own struggles gives the Indian woman raised in a culture of self-sacrifice permission to finally admit the loneliness she's carried for decades, the unspoken grief over a life not lived on her own terms. Or a middle-aged woman, trapped in a marriage where intimacy has become a distant memory. My candidness about the importance of emotional and physical connection can empower her to finally voice her needs, perhaps for the first time.

Then there are the students, the NRI, or the neglected wife of a narcissist, slowly realizing she's not crazy, she's been gaslit. My willingness to be real creates a ripple effect, allowing them to acknowledge their own truths, even the messy, uncomfortable ones. It's like I've given them a mirror to see themselves clearly, often for the first time.

And let's not forget the taboo topics. In a culture where open conversations about sexuality are often discouraged, my frankness gives the courage to ask questions to explore their own sexuality without shame.

On the other hand, sometimes people's inner worlds are a bit messy. And they don't always appreciate having their masks ripped off. My authentic presence has been met with everything from awkward silences to full-blown emotional explosions. I've been the target of projections & emotional offloading. "You're too much!" means..You're making me uncomfortable with how comfortable you are in your own skin.

There have been times when this vulnerability has made me a target. It's a strange paradox: the more genuine I am, the more I sometimes attract people who are anything but. They see my openness as an invitation to… They mistake vulnerability for weakness.

It's a lesson I've learned the hard way: authenticity is a powerful tool, but it's not a magic shield. Sometimes, you have to create your own shield. I continue to be my authentic self. Because the moments of genuine connection, the times when I help someone uncover their own truth, are worth the occasional emotional sharpnel.