The Authentic Self
“If you’re you, who the hell am I?”
Grace Armitage, sometime in 1994.
I remember saying this many years ago in a pub with my sister, jokingly, to a small crowd of men. Little did I know I would be writing about it decades later and drawing meaning from it in my struggle with Complex PTSD. On my healing journey, which stepped up over the last year, after experiencing huge grief, the sense of who I am fell apart like crumbling chalk. This became the first step for me on the path of self-discovery, a slight diversion from the main road of Complex-PTSD.
I promised in another blog that I would explore the authentic self, and this light-hearted comment, made all those years ago, captures, albeit with tongue in cheek, the true complexity of what it means to be you, me, her, him, they, them. There are other famous, and perhaps corny clichés, especially in films and books, where leading characters take journeys to “find themselves.” When I was younger and possibly less evolved, psychologically, I would dismiss this as pretentious.
When we are born into a healthy and loving environment, where we receive unconditional love from our caregiver, we can have our basic needs met without having to make adaptations. For example, theories reveal the importance of eye contact between the caregiver and infant. This basic communication regulates the infants’ emotional state, as well as other sensory stimuli. As the infant develops, the bond with the caregiver in healthy relationships deepens. This creates an environment where that individual feels safe to become their true self. You could ask how we know what our true self is. Now, then, ever? This is the million-dollar question.
The authentic self, as I understand it through extensive reading and reflection, is the ability to exist in truth. To love, live, grow, flourish, and develop relationships where we genuinely express who we are. This is because, if we start life in a world of unconditional love and safety, we would have no conscious or unconscious need to modify our behaviour. We would have no unmet needs and no tendency to manipulate our responses or reactions, which allows us to grow into our true self.
This concept is much deeper than one paragraph or even a blog can justify, and I have simplified it significantly. Using therapy and learning about the implications of childhood development, I have started to question my truth, challenging long-held beliefs about who I am. Growing up with an emotionally absent mother (and father), according to research, strongly suggests that I was likely to develop altered behaviour to fill the void where unconditional love should have been. I definitely remember the tantrums and the energy, the fire in my belly, that I recall as early as three years old. Until I invested in therapy and writing about Complex PTSD, I identified as a girl who had temper tantrums, a lack of impulse control, and a feisty personality.
Years of subconsciously trying to make myself visible for love, and seek the validation so absent from a young age, I became the traits I acted out. I was then punished for the behaviour and outbursts, thus creating a perpetuation of self-loathing and a self-fulfilling prophecy. I had designed my very own personality. This offered me the role of the naughty child, a label that would follow me into adulthood.
As I look back over fifty years and consider a more evolved version of myself, sitting typing these words, I realise that not only did I not “know” myself, but neither did the family that I grew up with. Think of our parents and siblings, and how they can often claim that they know us, oftentimes refusing to let go of the version of us they grew up with. We meet and invest in new relationships, and sometimes, family get-togethers are a source of deep distress and embarrassment because we are trying to shed those younger parts of us and grow, while family members can often pull us back.
We can spend a lifetime confused about our identity, about how we feel internally, and how others treat us. No wonder so many of us question who we really are. But this question is one we should all address. Some call it a midlife crisis. I call it necessary. Even if we have no trauma as such, discovering the truth of who we are shows growth and maturity. It has taken me fifty years to start my journey, and I have a lot of work to do.
What can make the process of self-discovery more difficult is that, when the time comes for us to recognise and start letting go of those parts of ourselves that no longer serve us, the coping mechanisms and maladaptive behaviours, others may not be ready to give these up. For example, with the help of my therapy, I have learned that, for decades, I struggled with impulse control, whether through poor decision-making, reactive behaviour, or emotional dysregulation. The consequences of this behaviour included addictions, erratic actions, and often poor life choices. Until therapy, I identified with these traits and labelled myself accordingly. My therapist helped me to see the connections with complex PTSD and the inability to regulate the nervous system, which often leads to disorganised behaviour, emotional chaos, and difficulty managing impulses.
Last year, almost all of these aspects of my complex PTSD were weaponised against me. This reinforced my deeply ingrained sense of self. How could I possibly discover who I was when the version reflected to me by others kept me stuck? How could I know who I was if others didn’t? Perhaps you can relate to this? Think of times in your life when you have been judged. Have you responded with shame, accepting and identifying with the view others hold of you? Or, like me, have you begun to explore your true self, the truth buried beneath years of adapted behaviour?
I’ve complemented the reading I do on psychology with that of spirituality, and learned that at our core lies truth. By definition, we are creation, and our existence is inherently good. Life shapes us, and sometimes, especially if childhood is traumatic, we are bent entirely out of shape. But there is hope; we can rediscover our true form, our authentic self. Is it time for you to meet your real self? Are you ready to be reintroduced? I’m still making my own progress, and as I start to process long-held shame, guilt, and self-loathing, I get closer to my truth.
If you have experienced any triggers when reading this, or if it has resonated with you and you need or want further support, please reach out to your NHS GP or access resources online. If you are experiencing an emotional or mental crisis, please ring 111 for your local crisis team.
