Recently, I’ve been learning a lot about who I truly am.   Not about who the world wants me to be; not who my bosses or mentors or friends or parents wish me to be. Not who I think my image of God wants me to be. Not who my wife wants me to be. Not even who I think I want me to be… But who I am.   Underneath the make-up, the mask, and all the projections I’ve learned to master.    As an Enneagram type 3, I am labeled “The Achiever.” And it’s very apropos. For most of my life, I have found my self-worth in the production, presentation, and preservation of how others’ perceive me. “If people think I’m successful, I’m successful!” This has created all sorts of wild victories and utterly devastating failures (no matter the true size of failure). At my unhealthiest, I simply strive to produce whatever “they” will think is impressive (while never really being able to define who “they” are). And at my most healthy, I can transcend that need for others’ approval and be freed to bring value to the world, simply by who God has gifted me to be.    One of the most liberating things for my personality type to experience is actually failure. (And the more public the failure, the better it does to tear down the facade of success.) But because of my natural slant to want to be associated with success, I avoid failure at all costs. Even if it means jumping ship from an organization, relationship or project when it starts to show signs of decline.   Why do we feel a sense of liberation when all of our junk is exposed?  How is it that when some of our deepest fears are realized, we actually feel a sense of excitement come over us?   For me, when I’ve experienced failure recently, it’s been as if the experience tore the mask off my face; and quickly realizing that the mask was actually limiting my vision and making it harder to breathe. The thing that I thought was protecting me was actually putting my experience of life into a box. (A very pretty, gold-gilded box).   And a public display of my inadequacies actually becomes liberating.    “No, I’m not very good at that.”  “That thing scares me.”  “I’m not confident that I can make that work.”  “I don’t really feel like it.”  “I’m probably not the right person for the job.”  “I’ve been feeling pretty lonely recently.”    Even if you aren’t wired in the same way, isn’t there a great sense of relief when the people around you know you for who you truly are? And especially when they still love you.   A former boss of mine once said to me, “John, I want you to know that you’re not needed here. We don’t need you. We can find someone else to do this job. But I want you to know that you’re wanted. We want you here.”    We don’tneed you, but we dowant you.    And it reframed the whole thing for me.   Mothers, you spend most of your lives trying to nurture little ones into happy, healthy people. The last thing you need is to worry about projecting a perfect image while doing it. Pinterest isn’t watching. Be honest with yourself and the people around you about how impossibly hard parenting is. Rest in that. This season of life is probably the most confused and sleep-deprived that you’ll ever be.   Entrepreneurs, you live, eat, breathe and sleep striving for success. Every day you’re #Hustling. When will the final sense of satisfaction come? Is it when you make your first million? Is it when you have fifty employees? Is it when you sell your idea to a larger business? Don’t feel the pressure to act like someone you’re not. In your honest assessment of who you truly are, you’ll find joy (and relief that you don’t have to #hustle to find a sense of satisfaction).   Millennials, we’re wired with an insatiable hunger for more. More connection, more uniqueness, more social justice, more freedom, more self-reliance. When will we be happy? Maybe it’s not actually about our definition of happiness at all. Maybe it’s about genuine presence and making an actual impact in the causes we’re passionate about. Wouldn’t that be remarkable? If our lives actually made a difference?   I think we could all benefit from a bit of failure. A moment when we let our true inadequacies show. A time to realize we don’t have it all together. An ugly (but liberating) makeup-less Selfie.    Because then, and perhaps only then, we’ll realize that the people that love us truly love us for who we are.   (Not who we pretend to be.)