Finding Freedom: Letting Go of the Persona We Wear

Chapter 1: The Burden of Persona

I’m exhausted from the facade, from playing a role on a stage. There’s a deep yearning to simply exist. It’s a constant struggle against the pressure to “be something” or “do something” to be seen as credible and deserving of a voice. The task of composing an “about me” section became an overwhelming challenge, triggering familiar, restrictive thoughts focused on how others perceive me.

Yes, I managed to write it, but upon rereading, I recognized how much I leaned on my past achievements—those professional highlights. When I see them laid out in just a few paragraphs, I realize: that’s not my true self. I reject it wholeheartedly. Just looking at it makes me uneasy. Is it a trophy? A mark of intelligence or accomplishment? It signifies nothing; it’s merely another mask, yet another barrier between the persona I’ve been projecting and the more profound self that I’ve kept hidden away.

I simply am. That realization brings relief—a release from the constraints of my former identity. Letting it all go feels liberating. If I no longer cling to that identity, who do I become? I am. I wish to just exist. To be is like wrapping oneself in a warm embrace.

Our upbringing often leads us to value a writer’s words or a creator’s work based on their credentials or past successes, but this viewpoint is fundamentally flawed. Are we merely the sum of our experiences? Beneath all of that, we just exist. We are “the observer,” watching this character on stage, much like actors in today’s media.

It’s all a performance. When we identify with that role—its experiences and accomplishments—we lose touch with our true selves and our essence. This identification with a persona drains our energy. However, simply being present in the moment offers profound fulfillment.

What should I include in an “about me”? A single mother. A former entrepreneur. A past academic. A multitude of identities. I’ve lived. Perhaps this is why I chose to deactivate my LinkedIn account, which felt like a platform for showcasing so-called achievements.

“Hello, look at my past accomplishments.” I was a (fill in the blank) once, and that’s meant to lend me credibility and worth? Each one of us is deserving, just as we are. Ironically, it’s often those with a long list of “manufactured achievements” who lack genuine credibility.

Social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram present a false narrative: “Look at me living my best life.” It’s a facade, a character being portrayed. Without awareness, one risks spending their entire life confined to this role. The mask worn is misleading, damaging, and can be perilous to those who mistake this “performance” for reality.

For the individual behind the image, this portrayal can lead to feelings of entrapment within a fabricated role, shackled by insecurities and a profound fear of being exposed as an imposter. The truth is gradually becoming apparent, and we are awakening to the artificiality of these platforms—much like the falsehoods we’ve been sold regarding various products. Ah, the joy of awakening—or perhaps the “hazard” of it. It feels as if the ground beneath you is collapsing, yet this collapse is strangely liberating. The energy expended to maintain that façade was quietly suffocating you.