How Not Being Yourself Can Come at a Great Cost

During a recent interview at the World Government Summit in Dubai, Tesla and SpaceX Founder Elon Musk was asked what advice he would give to anyone with aspirations of being just like him.  

Musk glanced at the floor as if the answer would reflect itself back in the polished ivory stage he was standing on.

"I think probably people shouldn't want to be me," he said. "I think it sounds better than it is. It's not as much fun being me as you'd think. I'm not sure I want to be me," he concluded.

His candor was repaid. Supportive applause for his vulnerability filled the room. He offered a rare solace and proof that a snapshot of one's life does not constitute as an accurate window into his, or anyone's life. 

I was reminded how a few years before I'd been invited to interview a business leader whose brand was as synonymous with my hometown as pita and hummus. The city was practically cloaked in her company's logo and you'd have been hard pressed to find someone in town unfamiliar with her company.

But when we met for the first time I instantly took note of the heaviness of her gait and the visage of defeat in her eyes. She looked exhausted both physically and spiritually.

When I congratulated her on the success of the company she casually told me she'd shut it all down if she could. 

"I've just got too much invested so I can't," she told me. 

Her life couldn't have been less in harmony with the one I was convinced she was living. 

The truth is, no one really knows what goes on once the curtain drops and stage isn't lit. Yet, we're conditioned to believe one's life is indistinguishable from their latest vacation pics or Facebook post.

But how can we begin to fully appreciate the complexities, contradictions, and nuances of our existence when we focus solely on the display window? We've become more drawn to the marketing of life rather than the herculean sacrifices, failures, and anguish behind those achievements. We seek the accolades and proof of our significance in this world, however fleeting. 

As a result, we often long for someone else's life. We waste far too much time wishing we were someone else. 

What a tragedy when we don't respect and celebrate our oneness. As Irish poet, John O'Donohue notes, when we force ourselves into someone else's mold we betray our individuality. 

Instead, we praise the distinctiveness of people like Steve Jobs, Nelson Mandela, and Marlon Brando, quietly envying their courage for owning who they were meant to be -- the same capacity we ALL have to be ourselves. 

The irony is the most original thing anyone can do is to be themselves. Fiercely. Wholly. Unapologetically. When we do we invite others to do the same.

In time, we become more adept architects of life. We cultivate a heightened sense of self-awareness, conviction, and a confidence that what we do and who we are matters profoundly.

With practice we become less discouraged when our victories are not as widely celebrated as the newest smartphone or rocket launch. We take pride in painting our own canvas. Our contributions to the world, however grand, matter to someone somewhere and that's enough. 

We can still be inspired by the examples and remarkable achievements of the Benjamin Franklin's and Oprah Winfrey's of the world. In fact, we should be. But we can use their influence to illuminate our own sense of self rather then just theirs. The world doesn't need any more archetypes of others but originals of YOU.

In my own quest to claim my sense of identity I often weaved, looped, and zigzagged on paths I thought would take me to self-revelation. But the longer I trekked the further away it all seemed to be. 

Kicking off life in Hong Kong to a mother from Korea and an Italian American father from Brooklyn before moving to Oakland just about assured my take on the world would be a little entangled, whether I liked it or not. 

When my brother and I would stroll down side streets in my mom's native Seoul during summer visits we were ogled as curiosities, a kind of science experiment. 

Back in the States some were equally confused at how I of all people could have a vowel at the end of my last name or Italian blood coursing through my veins. 

And when I embarked on a path towards the least meritocratic and most intolerant industry in the world, I was often met with equal bewilderment. Once, during an audition I decided a character I was playing had a New York accent. The casting director nearly stopped me to say, "When I hear you do the scene it sounds great. But when I look up and see you doing it something doesn't match."

I refrained from sharing the thickest Brooklyn accent I'd ever heard in my life was from a Chinese American actor I knew from Benson Hurst. 

But what all of these experiences taught me was the isolation I often felt was self-imposed. I jumped ship and paddled to that faraway island on my own volition. Perhaps, I liked the solitude and quiet it offered. 

Still, the truth was the remoteness I experienced was just a failure to embrace my own singularity. My ONENESS. I could swim back any time I wanted.

Perhaps, now more than ever we need the dormant and remarkably powerful selves within us to rise up. But it requires conviction and a desire to sidestep the temptation to dress, speak, act, or BE like anyone else however difficult or unglamorous. 

The stakes are high but the rewards unmatched. 

When we awake to the integrity of our OWN imaginations, sensibilities, and strengths we engage and honor life by living it on our own terms rather than the ones expected of us.