I’ve mentioned before that I’m a bit of a New Year’s junkie. Looking back through the archives, you’ll find a post dedicated to the topic of renewal nearly every January (and a few others sprinkled in here and there at other times of the year). While I tend to take an “agile” approach to personal development, with new Stormy upgrades being released every couple of weeks, I really love the idea of a completely clean slate and dream about what I’d like to achieve in the coming year. 

Oftentimes, I approach the new year with an idea or mantra in mind. This year, my goals are centered around a word, and like Merriam-Webster recently chose as its Word of the Year for 2023, I am choosing “Authentic” as my word for 2024. 

Merriam-Webster’s choice seems to be in recognition of people’s increasing desire for authentic human connections in a year when AI became omnipresent. I think they are on track with that one. When you start reading AI-generated content, it doesn’t take long to realize that there isn’t a real person behind it. An “AI Assistant” has even been added as a feature to WordPress (the software I use for creating this blog), but let me assure you, since writing is therapy for me, I’ll never outsource this blog to AI… Meanwhile, indulge me by going waaaaay back for a moment, as I explain…

Why I chose authentic

Young Stormy started working at Blue Cross & Blue Shield at the tender age of 18. It felt like I was on an alien planet. To meet the dress code, I wore a skirt, blouse and heels with nylons(!) every day. I routinely interacted with people who had mortgages, kids and high cholesterol. My job duties included a variety of mind-numbing clerical tasks—making photocopies of huge stacks of insurance applications, for example; ultimately culminating in my last position: finding out why people needed health insurance so we could deny them coverage for that very thing. Ha! … Well, admittedly, that may be a cynical explanation of my role as an assistant health history underwriter, but not by much. Needless to say, I hated my job. 

While working there, I signed up for various professional development seminars that were offered on our corporate campus (they were free and considered a legitimate way to get out of doing the job that I hated, so…) One of these was for women to learn how to talk so they would be taken seriously in business. I remember the instructor specifically addressing that annoying thing some women do? Where their voices go up at the end of every statement? Making everything they say sound like a question? As though they are apologizing for having a thought and expressing it? 

Thankfully, I don’t think nearly as many women speak like that these days—I guess there has been progress made against the patriarchy since the 80s after all. But if you’re my age or older, you’ve experienced that speech pattern before. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make by reminiscing about my early working days is this: A young working woman in the mid-80s was not expected, nor encouraged, to be “authentic.” Far from it. We were encouraged, nay expected, to “fit in.”

• “Fake it ’til you make it”
• “Dress for the job you want, not the job you have”
• “Play the game”
• “Keep up appearances”
• “Never let them see you sweat”

With standards like these, it’s no wonder “imposter syndrome” became a thing.

A shift in the corporate perspective

Nowadays, there’s more of a focus on authenticity in the workplace. Diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) initiatives have led to greater awareness of the many adaptations (code-switching, passing and assimilation) that my generation took as non-negotiable. Obviously, Stormy trying to fit into a corporate setting as an 18-year-old, American-born, cis-gender, white, middle-class woman didn’t require as many mental gymnastics as some of my colleagues. Over the years, I’ve had coworkers who were gay and closeted, experiencing gender dysphoria, or hiding physical or mental health conditions from their employer, and I wouldn’t wish that kind of daily mental strain on my worst enemy. And I think most people would agree that greater acceptance of diversity is a good thing—but we still have a ways to go. 

However, while I still have a non-conformist streak in me that 30 years of corporate indoctrination has been unable to squelch completely, I also don’t think every personal expression or preference requires “accommodations.” I draw a distinction between forcing someone with naturally tightly coiled hair to chemically straighten it and expecting someone to not curse excessively in the workplace. (And before my past colleagues chime in to bust me, yes, I’ve been known to curse in the workplace… However, while this may be an authentic trait, it’s not one I’m particularly proud of, so if an employer called me out on it, I would have to agree that it was reasonable for them to expect better language.) Likewise, I hate making small talk with strangers, but it’s an unspoken expectation when talking to clients, so I learned to suck it up and chit chat as required. I guess what I’m saying here is the good side of “fake it ’til you make it” is leaning into things that don’t necessarily come naturally and developing new skills and resiliency as a result… at its best, learning to embrace discomfort promotes personal growth. 

So back to my story…

At some point in my 40s, I finally had enough confidence in my own professional competence to relax and let my authentic self show through a bit more. At that point, I knew stuff. I was good at my job. I had made up for my initial educational deficiency with a bachelor’s degree, an MBA and an assortment of certifications. I had managed work teams and million-dollar budgets. I could finally “own” my authenticity, right? 

Well, for a decade, I did just that. However, the last several years, I found myself facing a new problem—one that was the opposite of the issue I faced in my youth. As a job-seeker in my 50s, I was now in the uncomfortable position of trying to downplay my experience (so as to indirectly downplay my age). This was causing a bit of cognitive dissonance: On the one hand, I was ready to fully “own” my history, and on the other, I was painfully aware that age discrimination is real. And hiring within my chosen field (Marketing) is even more youth oriented. 

Keeping my resume to two pages was difficult. While some experience was obviously obsolete (press check, anyone?), whole jobs—even one where I was the department head by the time I left the company—were omitted due to them being too long ago. In casual networking conversations, I dreaded the question “How old are your kids?” Peers with teenagers would look baffled when I confessed that two of my three kids were in their 30s. Starting my family early means that I now have more time and energy to devote to work and, when it comes to technology, my skills are light years ahead of my “digital native” children. Nonetheless, I couldn’t find roles comparable in pay or responsibility to those I previously held. Despite feeling 33 inside, during interviews with younger executives, I felt like a relic. And an expensive one at that. Like Adam & Eve’s pizza cutters… queue the Antiques Roadshow!

That’s why I was happy to find a new job situation last year with a professional services firm. Suddenly, my years of experience were regarded as an asset again, not a liability. I no longer felt as though I would be penalized for being authentic. I could breathe again. 

Who is Stormy?

So, as I look to the year ahead, I can finally figure out who I authentically am—and who I authentically want to be—without worrying about anyone else’s impressions, expectations or judgement. And, given my fondness for New Year’s resolutions, a bunch of ambitious goals have emerged from those two questions, “Who are you? And who do you want to be?” (For example, someone who is healthy, active, spiritually grounded, creative, etc., etc., etc.) So, while I’m not trying to boil the ocean and don’t plan to achieve my personal version of nirvana all at once, 2024 will be about moving closer to my ideal self. And my blog posts will probably reflect this larger theme, as well. But I promise you that I’ll share my adventures, observations, and defeats in addition to my successes 🤞🏻, in the spirit of keeping it all “authentic.”

Postscript: It’s not lost on me that I’m writing about authenticity on a blog that was created under a pseudonym! But in Stormy’s case, authenticity comes with some inconsistency—that’s what makes life interesting, after all! (All things in moderation…even moderation.) 😉