Is there such a thing as being truly comfortable in your own skin?

We are always looking for ways to mitigate negativity and distress and feel more "comfortable in our own skin."

For many of us, this translates to how you can better "fit in" and not "stand out." The problem? We are all designed to be 100% uniquely our own. Even if we share some traits, interests or characteristics with people, we are not the same as anyone else.

And yet, we live in a society that tries to fit all of the beautiful nuances of humanity into one of 2 boxes — "enough" or "not enough"; "good" or "bad"; "worthy" or "not".

It's screwed up. And it breeds identity crises all over the world. So why do we do it?

Shame or the threat to our connection and value in the world. It shows up any time we could be at risk of rejection or othering and pushes us to "get in line" and act in accordance with some doctrine of conformity.

When I was 12, I was already knee-deep in complex trauma and my body had taken a toll. I had gained a significant amount of weight and needed new clothes to fit my body.

The problem was that I had just moved in with my extended family in a different part of the state while my mom was in drug rehabilitation programming and where they lived was nothing like the farm town I had been living in. People didn't dress like I did, how I knew, or how I liked.

So, what did I do? I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be accepted. So, I bought the clothes that would help me do it.

You probably remember those horrendous polo shirts from Hollister and Abercrombie that cost a high school a whole Noodles & Co paycheck, ripped in less time, and were both unflattering and uncomfortable.

Did I like them? No. Did I think the style was cute? I mean, maybe, but definitely not for my body type.

I hated the idea of shopping in a place where just walking by would mean you would smell like them for weeks and whose entire store was filled with models and employees who looked nothing like me, or as I got older, I would come to realize didn't look like 98% of the world's population.

But what made me more upset — and incredibly scared — was not fitting in. I was already the new kid. I was already the kid living with an extended family. I was already different and weird and all sorts of other things that such to experience as a middle/high schooler.

And I was lonely. My mom was struggling with undiagnosed (at the time) Bipolar Disorder and a severe cocaine addiction that was nowhere close to being over. I had moved so often with her that I never made real friends and just wanted to fit in.

So I played the part. And it worked. It started with the clothes. And then it morphed into who I spent time with, my activities, how I acted in school, etc. From one performance to the next, I began my pursuit of conformity mastery.

Sure, maybe it wasn't the real me, but at least I got to be in the "in" group. That has to count for something, right?

As I got older, this carried with me. I wouldn't buy clothes or jewelry I really liked because friends would say it was "ugly", "gross" or "too out there". I would silence my opinions, do what my friends wanted, listen to the music they liked, take the classes they took…the list continued.

I designed my whole life around being what I thought others wanted and filling the space between caring for everyone else but myself.

And over time, all that awaited me was a one-way ticket to shame-city with a giant scoop of eating disorder on the side. I was addicted to others' approval. I had rewired my brain to focus solely on external validation.

Sure, on the outside, I looked happy and like I had it "all". I was in a steady relationship, pursuing a bachelor's degree in science to attend medical school, and was the societally idealized body type. But when I looked in the mirror, I didn't know who I was anymore. Because everything that defined me was about taking care of everyone else.

And at what cost?

People still took issue with what I did or had conflicting opinions of me and my life choices. I was too bold and yet, too quiet. I was too skinny and yet not fit enough. I was too bright and yet not smart enough. I was too cocky and yet too selfless and lacked confidence.

The reviews were all over the place. And I had eroded my foundation of self-efficacy and confidence to the point that I could not even find solace within myself.

I had to rethink how I was functioning in this world. It was evident that I had lived most of my life pursuing something unfulfilling and entirely a mirage. No matter what I did, I could never keep up with the ever-evolving trends, demands and constructs of our culture and, specifically, the people around me. And the more I chased it, the further I got from myself.

I had to learn what it meant to love myself and to truly embrace the fact that no matter what I do, how I look and who I am as a person, I am not meant to be liked by everyone.

But if, at the end of the day, I can like me, and not just who I am but how I present my body, mind and character to the world, then the rest does not matter.

Easier said than done, I know. But if we don't work towards this reality, we will find ourselves stuck in shame's omni-present pressure to hide our true selves, leaving us perpetually feeling resentful, detached and burnt out.

So how can you begin this work?

Start by reflecting on a few of these questions:

How have you sacrificed your own interests or desires for the sake of fitting it? How did it affect you — good, bad and neutral?
Where did this come from? When do you remember first starting to do it?
What pieces of yourself do you need to both accept and love — inside and out — even if they are not what your society has led you to believe is worthy of love and belonging? Ex. I have really thick body hair that, no matter how often I shave, looks like my whole body has a 5 o'clock shadow (I know, what an image). I CAN'T change that. And unless I wear a parka all year round, people will see that. They will see imperfections. And that's okay.
What falsehoods and fears have you internalized that you need to let go of or stop chasing? For example, is it time to let go of the idea that you can make everyone like you or that you "should" be a size 2?
What would it look like to anchor your choices, actions and connections to your values rather than external expectations, projections and fears?
Is there anyone you don't perform in front of? Why not? Is there anything about that relationship you can bring to others or need to seek out in other relationships?
What support do you need from yourself and others to begin pursuing self-acceptance, self-care and eventually self-love?

Ready to go deeper?

As someone still in the early stages of shame recovery and resilience development — I have been doing my own work for a little over 10 years and yes, I still call that early — I want to honor the fact that this work is not a one-and-done game.

It's a lifetime commitment to the iterative process of learning and unlearning behavioral patterns and creating opportunities to get to know your full self.

This work has inspired me to create my new program, "That Life AR". This 5-Phase program is designed to take you through the steps necessary to define, root and unravel your shame and do the work to live a life driven by purpose and authenticity.

I have taken everything I have learned in my own journey infused with what I know as a licensed mental health therapist who has worked with thousands of different people both in and outside of the therapy room to build this program and while it, alone, is not a "cure" or answer as we will all battle shame our whole lives, it is the most comprehensive program on tackling it that I have seen thus far.

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Can you ever really be comfortable in your own skin?