When I was in my early twenties, I was hired to work in an all-male company. In an attempt to assuage their assumptions about having a ‘girl’ on the team, I started following Premier League football so I could join their water-cooler chat. I know, I know, it was lame - especially because there was no water-cooler! But I was young, impressionable and desperate to bond. I ended up getting really into it (Arsenal, in case you’re wondering), and it was great to feel included. That summer I met a guy who I went on to date for a few years - an Arsenal fan, no less! He was delighted to meet a girl who (ahem) ‘loved football’. The summer we met coincided with the World Cup, and many if not most of our dates would involve going to watch the footie in a crowded sweaty sports bar. I genuinely enjoyed the games, but mostly because I knew I could keep up with the ‘bants’ (*cringe*) at work the next day . It was access to the boys club that I loved, not the game itself. When I left that job, my interest in football diminished almost overnight. My boyfriend couldn’t understand what had happened - “but I thought you loved football?”, he said, looking like a kid who just heard Santa plays for Spurs. He was right to feel duped - he’d been a victim of marketing.
With regret, it’s probably one of many ways I sold myself out in my 20’s, never quite sure who I actually was, often misguiding others because I was misguiding myself. It’s fine to adapt to others, to compromise and accommodate in relationships, but we need to have a strong sense of Self to do so healthily. Establishing a good relationship with boundaries in order to know what we can give without it costing us a part of ourself.
Of course, we all have to sell ourselves a little. Jobs, dates, meeting the in-laws. As creatures wired for connection, it’s only natural that we consider our audience. But it shouldn’t require a compromise of authenticity. Research suggests 1 in 3 people are now dating online, yet over half (57%) lie in their profile. Perhaps not surprising of those there purely for hook-ups, but with endless profiles, crafted bios, and filtered photos, single people have become market traders of personality. Some the real deal. Some hawking false promises and fake goods - charming as hell and dodgy as Del Boy!
When we meet someone we like, it can be tempting to appeal to what we think they’ll like in us. Of course we want to put our best foot forward, but we have to ensure it is actually our foot! I’m not suggesting most people are dishonest, but many might put out a vibe; ‘I’m not looking for anything serious’, ‘I’m unfalteringly monogamous’, ‘I do/don’t want kids’ (I do/don’t want to spend every night watching football). The entrepreneurial mantra of ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ doesn’t translate to personal relationships because trying to maintain something that isn’t genuine is unsustainable. We end up feeling trapped or resentful, and sooner or later what started as a feeling of relationship simpatico has all gone ‘Chateauneuf de Pap’, as Del Boy would say.
It’s also important to note that, of course, sellers attract buyers. I have a male client currently in his thirties who keeps complaining about attracting ‘clingy’ women who want a relationship. On closer examination it seems that he sets the tempo of intensity initially, talking of a future and behaving like he’s in it for the long-term, only for him to pull back in a repeating pattern of avoidance. These women aren’t clingy, they’re just confused by the bait-and-switch. Seeking explanation from the non-existent Customer Service department of dating.
We save ourselves and others a lot of time, struggle and heart-ache when we are honest about who we are and what we want from the start. When it comes to real connection, we should never have to haggle. Interested parties will come and go, but the mark of real quality are the people who can say, This is me. These are my terms. Genuine article. Lifetime guarantee.
The Spin
If we present a false persona in early relationships, we’re likely to experience loneliness and resentment further down the line.
When we pretend to be something we’re not, we are instantly putting a barrier between ourselves and others.
If we need to be a different person in order to be accepted by somebody, we should certainly be questioning why we would want a relationship with that person.
Adding More Weight
Say What You Mean, Mean What You Say
Why You Should Be Honest on Dating Sites
If You Want to Be Happy, Stop Pretending
Watch: The Tinder Swindler
Option To Go Deeper
What about yourself would you least want others to know?
We all have parts of our personality we feel are less shiny or acceptable than the other parts. Most often these perceptions are based on early experience, family scripts or social narratives. How likely are you to hide or disguise these parts when forming relationships with others? What (if anything) would happen if they were to be exposed?