The New Year Trap: Reinvention vs. Authentic Growth
The New Year often inspires a push to reinvent ourselves, fueled by the belief that transformation lies in becoming someone entirely new. But what if true growth isn’t about reinvention at all? In this post, I explore why the real path to fulfillment is discovering who you already are and learning to embrace and embody that authenticity.
The Goal
To become who you truly are is life’s greatest experience, laying the foundation for a life worth living. To achieve this, you must first uncover and heal the wounded parts of yourself. Healing means picking up where certain aspects of your personality were stunted by trauma or pain, allowing them to grow and mature. This process is one of continuous expansion, where you develop greater psychological capacity and stability. As you heal, you can experience deeper love, joy, appreciation, and meaning in life.
Because growth has no limits, healing becomes a lifelong journey—a path toward living a life that is authentically your own and sharing the unique gifts only you can offer. Yet obstacles often arise. The biggest challenge comes when we are told who we are, rather than being supported in discovering and embodying our true selves. When we are defined by others instead of being seen and loved for who we truly are, it sends a powerful message to our authentic self: that it is less valuable than the version we’re expected to perform for others.
The Two Childhood Lies
Very often, when people are trying to create an identity instead of finding and accepting their identity it is because they still believe that their real self is not as important, as brilliant as the person others want them to be. Most of the time, this is a belief that is carried over from childhood, where our parents and other adults convince us that our real thoughts and feelings aren’t as welcomed as the thoughts and feelings that keep the adults comfortable. So, this child goes into adulthood with the false assumption that being a certain way—being “good”, “perfect”, “special”, “right”—is more important than being real.
This idea of being “good” takes on various forms, depending on what was emphasized in the childhood environment. In some families, “good” means excelling in academics or sports. In others, it’s maintaining a flawless and cheerful appearance, hiding any struggles. For some, it’s adhering to a strong work ethic to achieve financial security, while others place critical importance on always having answers and avoiding uncertainty. Regardless of the specifics, the underlying message is the same: getting things “right” matters more than acknowledging, respecting, or caring for your inner experience, the real experience.
In all these cases the message is the same: that looking good is more important than whatever might really be happening on the inside, that doing things “right” on the surface matters more than the actual experience itself, that being “good”, “perfect” or “special” is more important than simply being real, that the surface level of behavior and appearance is more important than what’s happening inside. This teaches the real self two things: that it is insignificant (not enough) or it’s problematic (too much), or both.
The Two Childhood Lie Traps
Those who create an identity rather than embrace their true selves often do so because they’ve internalized two beliefs: that their real self is either “too much” for the world to handle, “not enough” for what the world demands—or both. These beliefs drive people to flee from their authentic selves, either by overcompensating to prove thier worth or by shrinking to avoid rejection.
For those who feel “not enough,” life becomes a relentless pursuit of success, power, and control. They strive to be exceptional, fearing that their true self isn’t good enough to be loved or valued. This often leads to perfectionism and an exhausting cycle of achievement, as they attempt to earn self-worth through accomplishments. Yet, no matter how much they achieve, they find the sense of fulfillment they seek remains elusive. Reaching the top can feel hollow when it’s the false self standing there, leaving them feeling alone, incomplete, and empty. The top is nothing compared to finding the true self, to return to the home within.
I experienced this disillusionment many times before recognizing it for what it was. As a struggling artist, I poured myself into my craft, chasing perfection and success. I allowed my work to define me, feeding into relentless judgments of “not good enough,” comparisons to others, and workaholism. Over time, I began to see a pattern: I would eventually come to hate everything I created. This realization forced me to pause and reflect. Therapy helped me uncover the deeper truth—I was chasing fame as a way to fill the emptiness inside, to compensate for not knowing or loving my real self.
Brad Reedy once said, “If we don’t get seen by someone in childhood, we may spend the rest of our lives trying to be seen by everybody.” My therapist provided the presence and understanding I needed, and the pressure to be special began to fade. Though I still work on accepting that I am already good enough, my relationship with music has transformed. Freed from the need to be the best, I can now explore the kind of artist I truly am, creating authentically and learning to love what I make. As the saying goes, “May the gods protect me from the things I want” (Anonymous/J.D. Gill, Fulcrum).
For those who feel “too much,” the pattern is different but equally harmful. These individuals suppress their needs to avoid being seen as inconvenient or burdensome, fearing rejection like they experienced in childhood. They become experts at being invisible, keeping the peace, and abandoning their own desires to care for others. Over time, this self-abandonment often leads to bitterness, anger, and resentment, as they blame others for their inability to take charge of their own lives. I have been in this place too, and though I’ve grown, it remains an ongoing work in progress.
Many people experience both patterns, feeling “too much” and “not enough” in different contexts. In either case, they live as performers for a critical audience, unable to rest or feel truly nurtured. At the root of both traps lies a common thread: these individuals are told what matters instead of being allowed to voice what matters to them. This is why so many spend their lives crafting the ideal persona they think others will appreciate, instead of discovering and stepping into who they truly are.
The Bliss
Donald Winnicott once said, “It is a joy to be hidden, but a disaster not to be found.” The joy belongs to the child who survives by cleverly hiding beneath a false self—the version of themselves that pleases the adults around them. The disaster occurs when that real self goes through life undiscovered, never encountering someone safe and compassionate enough to coax it into emerging and developing again.
For those who choose to do the work—spending time with someone who can help them uncover and authentically embody their true self rather than crafting a persona to please others—life transforms. It becomes blissful. Freedom, passion, play, adventure, being seen, and finding your people shift from rare privileges to everyday priorities.
As your real self, in the presence of other real people, you are allowed to get it wrong. You are allowed to fail, to be uncertain, to not have all the answers. You are allowed to take up space, to need support, to lean on others’ patience and care. And through all of this, you still matter. You are still welcomed, still worthy of love, and not abandoned.
This creates an inner stability—a deep sense of okay-ness that radiates through every cell of your body. You come to trust that simply being, without performing, manipulating, or altering any part of yourself, is enough. Life no longer feels like an endless race or a struggle for love and acceptance. Instead, no matter what happens, there is peace.
In this peace, joy flourishes. Creativity, intimacy, and fulfillment grow. Life becomes expansive, rich, and deeply meaningful. As the saying goes, “Life is an experience, not a performance” (Anonymous).
