Everyone wants to be "authentic" online. Every brand, every influencer, every content creator is chasing this elusive quality, hoping it will unlock trust, connection, and ultimately, conversions. But what are we even talking about when we say "authenticity"? Because I can tell you right now, as a disabled person who feels like they’re living under a microscope, it's rarely radical transparency, and it's always a performance to some degree.
Let's get real.
The Myth of Radical Transparency
The idea that "authenticity" means sharing everything – your deepest fears, your morning breath, your unedited failures – is not only impractical, it's often irresponsible. Imagine a brand trying to be "radically transparent" about their internal struggles, their financial woes, or every single production mishap. It would be chaos. It would be unprofessional. It would be a trainwreck.
For individuals, especially those of us who are disabled and often subjected to intense scrutiny, "radical transparency" can be dangerous. Revealing every single detail about my health, my bad days, my personal life, isn't empowering; it's self-exposure that can lead to vulnerability, exploitation, and judgment from people who don't understand or care. My privacy is a boundary, not a sign of inauthenticity.
Authenticity is NOT:
Sharing every thought or experience: That's oversharing, and it often serves the viewer more than the creator.
Being perpetually "positive" or "vulnerable": Sometimes authenticity is just quiet, focused work, or protecting your peace.
A free pass to be rude or unprofessional: "I'm just being authentic!" is the battle cry of many who confuse honesty with tactlessness.
The Inescapable Performance
Here’s the truth: whether you're a multi-billion dollar corporation or a person sharing their life online, you are always, always, always engaged in a curated performance.
You choose the angle: Even with a selfie, you pick the best light, the best expression.
You choose what to include and exclude: What gets cut from the vlog? What isn't mentioned in the blog post?
You frame the narrative: Every story has a beginning, middle, and end. You decide what that arc looks like.
This isn't a bad thing. It's called communication. It's called strategy. It's called being human and wanting to present yourself in a way that aligns with your goals and values. The goal isn't to avoid performance; it's to make sure your performance is consistent, respectful, and genuinely reflective of the message you intend to send.
So, What Is Authentic Then?
If it's not radical transparency and it's always a performance, what are we actually looking for? I believe true "authenticity" boils down to consistency between stated values and observable actions. It's about living your truth publicly, even if that truth is carefully framed.
Authenticity IS:
Consistency: Does what you say match what you do? Does your brand promise align with your customer service? Does your online persona align with your real-life interactions (with those you choose to share them with)?
Integrity: Are you honest about your intentions, your limitations, and your mistakes? Are you willing to correct course when you get it wrong?
Self-Awareness (and a little bit of nerve): Understanding who you are, what you stand for, and having the guts to stick to it, even if it's not popular. It's about knowing your boundaries and defending them.
Brands Who Get It Right (and Where Others Trip Up)
Getting It Right: Patagonia
Patagonia isn't "radically transparent" in the sense that they're airing all their internal laundry on social media. But their authenticity shines through in their unwavering consistency between their stated environmental values and their business practices. They tell you not to buy their jackets if you don't need them. They offer repairs. They invest in sustainable materials. They advocate for environmental causes. Their "performance" is a cohesive, long-term commitment that resonates because it’s deeply integrated into every aspect of their brand, not just their marketing campaigns. You believe they care because they act like they care, consistently, over decades.
Missing the Mark: Greenwashing Brands
You see this all the time with companies that slap a "eco-friendly" label on a product while their supply chain is environmentally devastating, or they treat their workers poorly. They state values of sustainability or ethical production, but their actions (or lack thereof) completely contradict it. That’s where the "inauthenticity" stings. It’s a performance without substance, a hollow echo. They're trying to perform "good" without actually being good.
For Disabled Creators and Advocates
For us, "authenticity" is even more complex. We're often expected to be inspirational, to be endlessly positive, to "overcome" our disabilities for public consumption. This is a performance we refuse.
My authenticity lies in:
Sharing my reality, not a sugar-coated version: Yes, I show the good days, but I also talk about the systemic barriers, the ableism, and the frustrations. This isn't "negative"; it's honest.
Setting boundaries: My energy is finite. My privacy is important. Being "authentic" doesn't mean I owe anyone unlimited access or emotional labour.
Advocating for genuine change: My actions align with my words. I don't just talk about disability rights; I push for them, challenge norms, and use my platform for impact.
So, next time you hear "authenticity," challenge it. Deconstruct it. Ask: Is this consistent? Does this align with observable actions? Is this an honest performance, or just a performance of honesty?
The goal isn't to reveal all. The goal is to be real in the ways that matter, to build trust through consistency, and to stand firm in who you are, even when the world demands a different show.
And if you’re interested in my honesty, my disability, and how it affects me, check out this blog post.
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