The perils of keeping it real

By Dr. R. Balasubramaniam

Let me tell you something brutally honest — because that’s my thing and also my curse — being authentic in today’s world is like showing up to a masquerade ball with your actual face. Everyone else is gliding around with their glittering masks, smiling sweetly while mentally calculating how much social capital they can extract from the person they’re talking to. Meanwhile, I am over here, raw and unfiltered, looking like I forgot the assignment.

You would think honesty would be refreshing. You’d be wrong. Turns out, “just be yourself” is one of those Instagram quotes people post between duck-faced selfies and fake humility captions. Because the minute you do exactly that — say what you think, express how you feel, point out the emperor’s nakedness — you go from ‘bold and honest’ to ‘abrasive and problematic.’

People say they love candour. “I value authenticity!” they declare, clutching their oat milk lattes. But what they really mean is, “I want you to be authentic… as long as your truth flatters my worldview, strokes my ego and agrees with my questionable choices.” The second you drop a truth bomb that is not sugar-coated in six layers of diplomacy and passive-aggressive emojis, you have ‘made things awkward.’

And oh, the misunderstandings. If I had a rupee for every time my honesty was misinterpreted as hostility, I could afford to hire a PR team just to rebrand my intentions full-time. I have been labelled ‘too blunt,’ ‘difficult,’ ‘intense’ and my personal favourite, ‘a bit too much.’ Translation: I told someone their behaviour was selfish, but with eye contact.

You would think I am out here insulting puppies and ruining birthday parties. But no. I am simply that unfortunate soul who, when asked for feedback, gives it. Apparently, the modern world does not want opinions — it wants validation wrapped in the illusion of feedback.

We are in an era where everyone pretends to be open to different perspectives, but hand them an actual differing view and they look like you slapped their childhood dog. “That’s an interesting point,” they say through clenched teeth, eyes wide with micro-offence. You learn very quickly that authenticity has a high emotional price and the spoiler is that it is not covered by insurance.

What am I doing about it? I am learning, slowly and painfully, the fine art of packaging the truth like a diplomatic care package — padded, perfumed and possibly accompanied by baked goods. It is a strange dance — how to remain candid without being crucified, how to tell the truth without triggering a TED Talk on boundaries.

But here is the twist. It is possible to be real without making others reel. I am learning that being authentic doesn’t mean launching verbal grenades. It means asking, not assuming. It means pausing to wonder, “Is what I’m about to say helpful or just satisfying?” It means choosing curiosity over criticism.

Instead of telling someone they are being ridiculous (even when they absolutely are), I have started asking, “What makes this feel right to you?” Or “Is this giving you the outcome you hoped for?” No accusations. Just a mirror — quiet, reflective and waiting. If truth is a light, maybe it’s not about blasting people with it, but gently holding it up so they can see for themselves.

Compassionate curiosity. That’s the phrase I have taped to my mental dashboard. What would it look like to ask questions that invite someone inward, instead of backing them into a corner? How do I express my truth without making it about them? Can I leave space for the possibility that they will get to the same conclusion, on their own terms?

This is the subtle art of staying true to yourself without personalising everything. It is not about watering down your convictions — it is about delivering them in a way that does not scorch the earth.

Truth, it turns out, is best served not just straight — but slow. With kindness. With hope. With the grace to let people find their own way to it.

It is still stressful. It still takes work. But maybe that is the point. Authenticity is not a free pass to say whatever we want — it is the responsibility to say what needs to be said, in a way that others can actually hear.

And if we are lucky? Maybe someone out there will put down their mask for a minute, too.

[Dr. R. Balasubramaniam is the Founder of Swami Vivekananda Youth Movement (SVYM). ‘The Lighter Side’ is a series of satirical articles meant to bring a smile by highlighting the funny side of everyday life.]