Oprah has told us to be our best self and live an authentic life, but the two are not mutually exclusive. In fact, one has its feet firmly planted in reality, while the other enjoys a fanciful existence, where mining magnates think building the Titanic 2.0 is a good idea (because the first one worked out so well) and Mel Gibson doesn’t consider himself an anti-Semite.
I don’t think we consider him to be Australian any more.
My best self inhabits a world shared with resumes, online dating profiles and job interview banter, while my authentic self can be more likely found on the couch reading Who Weekly, eating Nutella with a spoon, arguing with advertisements on the telly and lying in my food diary. My authentic self is a disgusting, lazy slob with introverted and bitchy tendencies (aren’t I a delight), while my best self is Miss Sally Sunshine, who generally sees the glass half-full. Don’t worry, I hate that cow too. The dual-identity duel came to mind while sitting listening to the fifth candidate in one day give their best self spiel during a rather painful recruitment process to hire my replacement while I fill in for my boss on maternity leave. Although the disturbing thing was their best self spiel probably didn’t hide enough of their authentic self
to stop me thinking ‘please don’t kill me’.In a job interview, telling people you’re a born leader, when it’s not a leadership role, and that you need a camera that costs no less than $2000 to do your job properly – when the job isn’t a professional photographer – means you probably need to work a little harder on blanketing your authentic self with a convincing version of your best self.
But it got me thinking about the giant porkies, oops I mean the best self description, I use when I go to job interviews.
I know in one interview when asked to describe myself I actually said I was a happy and easy-going person. Which, if anyone who knows me is reading this, will have them rolling around on the floor and laughing. Also, in another interview when asked to describe a time I had to resolve a conflict I conveniently left out the tale of me crying after a journalist called me unprofessional and several other unprintable names when SHE failed to read embargo details properly. I also left out the part where we’ve seen each other since and have both pretended nothing happened at all. Ahhh, confrontation. It’s highly overrated.
Sometimes these things just fly out of your mouth without thinking. I think we’re so trained to know what we should say that we are automatically programmed to utter rubbish like ‘My work style is approachable, but professional’ and ‘My biggest weakness is having difficulty letting tasks go’ and ‘Please back up my hard drive, it’s getting too full of crap, auto-pilot answers’.
Unsuspecting employers are not the only victims of the authentic self vs real self battle. Singles looking for potential partners also beware.
I lost a considerable volume of festive lemonade through my nostrils when a friend showed me her RSVP profile. ‘I love sport and the great outdoors’, she spruiked, next to a photo of her looking ‘sporty’ on a beach. While a picture is worth a thousand words, the picture failed to mention this was probably her only trip outside that didn’t involve public transport or standing in line for an outlet sale in the last five years. The sport she participated in usually involved carrying flagons of wine up the stairs from her garage.
It didn’t really matter in the end, because she met a lovely fella who said he liked art, but his version of high art probably involved dogs playing poker or a velvet horse.
When it comes to the crunch, does anyone really want to be their best self? Because no one likes a Princess Perfect. You might have all your ducks in a row with a fabulous job, wonderful partner, beautiful home, wicked sense of humour, committed altruism, kind heart and terrifying intelligence, but you will be putting an ad out asking for some new friends, because your old friends have dumped you for being so annoyingly perfect. And after all, bitching and complaining really is such a satisfying past time.
Are we better off doing away with the farce and turning up to job interviews and first dates and fessing up to not quite completed degrees and living on a diet of cup-a-soup and Kardashians? Or does it make awkward social situations more comfortable and add to the intrigue of a potential partner?
Do you think your best self is a cruel unreachable target, or a useful goal to strive towards?
It's Claire as mud 
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