Her perception

I've often wondered what it means to be authentic. To be real. To be me. Growing up, I felt like I was living in a constant state of performance. My parents, teachers, and even friends seemed to have expectations of who I should be, how I should behave, and what I should achieve. And I, eager to please and desperate for validation, obliged.But beneath the surface, I was suffocating. The mask I wore was suffocating me, and the weight of pretending was crushing me. I felt like I was living in a dream, where everything looked perfect on the outside, but inside, I was dying.The facade was convincing, though. From the outside, it seemed like I had it all together. I was the good girl, the obedient daughter, the diligent student. But the truth was far from it. I was lost, confused, and desperately searching for a sense of purpose and belonging.As I navigated the complexities of adolescence and young adulthood, I began to realize that I wasn't alone in this feeling. Everyone around me seemed to be hiding behind their own facades, pretending to have it all together when, in reality, they were just as lost and uncertain as I was.And that's when it hit me: the facade is a universal language. We all speak it, to some degree or another. We all hide behind masks, pretending to be someone we're not, in order to fit in, to be accepted, or to avoid rejection.But what lies beyond the facade? What happens when we dare to peel back the layers, to reveal our true selves? Is it scary? Liberating? Both?As I embarked on my own journey of self-discovery, I began to uncover the answers to these questions. And what I found was nothing short of revolutionary.