Do I Leave Myself at the Door? The Fear That Kept Me Pretending

Reflecting on my past, I often wonder: When I entered the workplace, did I truly bring my whole self, or did I leave parts of who I was at the door? Too often, I adjusted, adapted, and moulded myself to fit what I thought was expected. I smiled when I didn’t feel like it, downplayed my passions, silenced my opinions, and hid my vulnerabilities. But why? What made me so afraid to be my true self?

The Fear That Shaped Me

At the heart of my reluctance to be authentic lay fear—fear of rejection, judgment, failure, and even success. This fear was a significant part of my journey, and I became pretty adept at disguising it. Ironically, as an HR professional, I would point out these issues to others, yet I failed to recognise that they were the source of my anxiety. I was focused on deliverables, constantly pushing myself to achieve more, and always thinking about what it would take to advance in my career. Why was I always chasing after more? Eventually, as I reached senior roles, I began to dislike my work—not because of the tasks themselves, but because so much revolved around other people’s egos or increasing focus on restructures and change rather than the development of people, the parts of my roles I loved. At times, it felt like I was consoling colleagues struggling with the work environment or caught up in a battle of egos, with many fighting to make an impact and climb the corporate ladder.

Sadly, I didn’t understand what was driving my behaviour until I began to look inward. Through painful reflection, I realised I was in a daily struggle with my own ego. It took me far too long to recognise that from an early age, I had been conditioned to believe that certain aspects of myself were more acceptable than others. My feelings of abandonment and unworthiness created numerous issues; I felt I needed to succeed just to be accepted and loved. All of this stemmed from beliefs I formed during my childhood.

As I climbed the corporate ladder, these fears intensified, as my livelihood, reputation, and sense of belonging often felt at stake.

Fear of Judgment

I feared being seen as “too much” or “not enough”—too emotional, too opinionated, or the “rough diamond” I was labelled early on. This fear made me shrink to fit the mould of expectations. Although I was often outspoken, there were times when my mind thought one thing, yet my lips uttered something far less contentious. A wonderful colleague pointed out that I habitually held a cup in front

of my mouth during meetings. I hadn’t even realised I was unconsciously blocking my mouth at moments when I didn’t want to say what I truly thought.

Fear of Rejection

Like any social environment, the workplace thrives on inclusion and belonging. For many years, I hesitated to disclose my background, worried about the stigma of growing up in a “coloured” community marked by alcohol and drug abuse. I played it safe, revealing just enough while holding back much of my story. Yet those humble beginnings gave me perspective on expectations in life. I vividly recall feeling frustrated listening to someone endlessly complain about the NHS (National UK Health Service). Inside, I was screaming, “You have no idea what it means to have insufficient healthcare!” My own experiences had been positive, and I lived in central London, but I worried that revealing too much about myself would lead to exclusion or being overlooked for opportunities.

Fear of Failure

Bringing my whole self to work and then failing felt deeply personal. It was easier to fail when I wore a mask; then it wasn’t truly me who failed—just the version I presented. This allowed me to convince myself that I was good at what I did. However, I didn’t realise that while I cared deeply about injustices stemming from my upbringing in apartheid South Africa, I often advocated for what was right for others without considering the impact on myself. I sacrificed my own needs in my fight against injustice, sometimes becoming unpopular because of my strong views. My background had not prepared me for a sophisticated corporate environment, and while my intentions were good, I often struggled to communicate them effectively. The greatest missed opportunity in my career was not allowing many people close enough to see the real me, which made me seem inauthentic. Only a few people glimpsed the softer side behind my tough exterior—like a marshmallow wrapped in barbed wire, as my niece once described me.

The Cost of Pretending

Constantly filtering myself to fit into an environment created a deep internal disconnect. This disconnect led to:

Emotional Exhaustion: Pretending to be someone I wasn’t was mentally and emotionally draining. The effort to constantly censor myself led to burnout.

Lack of Fulfillment: Work became merely transactional rather than an expression of purpose. I may have achieved external success but felt empty inside.

Superficial Relationships: True connection arises from vulnerability and authenticity. When I wore masks, I prevented others from really knowing me, and in turn, I never felt fully seen.

Stifled Creativity and Innovation: When I feared judgment, I hesitated to share bold ideas. The best ideas often come from the parts of me that feel different or unconventional, but when I was hiding, I silenced my greatest contributions.

My Path to Authenticity

Looking back, I see how I broke free. I gradually learned to bring more of myself into my work without fear. The journey to authenticity involved both unlearning and reclaiming.

Self-Reflection: I began to ask myself: Where was I holding back? What was I afraid of revealing? What parts of myself felt unseen at work? Awareness was the first step to change.

Embrace Imperfection: I learned that perfection is an illusion. Accepting my imperfections allowed others to do the same.

Speak My Truth: Authenticity doesn’t mean oversharing; it means aligning my words and actions with my values. I started small—expressing an honest opinion, setting a boundary, or sharing a personal insight more freely.

Find Safe Spaces: I sought out people, mentors, or teams where authenticity was valued. The more I surrounded myself with those who accepted me, the easier it became to drop the mask.

Redefine Success: Instead of measuring success by external validation, I began to gauge it by how aligned I felt with my true self. A career that forces someone to be someone else is never true success.

A New Way of Working

I now dream of a workplace where authenticity is the norm rather than the exception—where we don’t have to leave ourselves at the door but can bring our full, messy, brilliant selves. A place where growth is valued over perfection, and humanity is seen as a strength, not a weakness.

That kind of workplace begins with each of us. The more we choose authenticity, the more we permit others to do the same. In that collective bravery, we create a culture where work is not just something we do—it’s an extension of who we truly are.

So, as I reflect on my journey, I ask myself: Did I show up as my true self, or did I leave parts of myself behind? The choice, as always, is ours.

What about you? Are you ready to bring your whole self to work?