I am not sure exactly when it happened, but at one point in my life, I hopped off a freight train going nowhere and made a decision to just be myself. It was almost as though I considered all of the sign posts and finally picked the Road Less Traveled . As I re-examine the steps along my way, I am increasingly aware of the risk that I took at that time. The world seems to appreciate Fake so much. Fake boobs, fake nails, fake alligator skin, fake tattoos, fake hair color, fake hair, fake jewels, fake designer bags, clothes, and shoes.
If we are good enough at being Fake, we might achieve the ultimate of Fakehood. We might turn ourselves into walking, talking Barbie Dolls, and if we can wrangle up a Ken to marry us, we can lock our doors, throw away our keys, and spend the rest of our lives in our not-so-fake jails, where we’ll wither, simply trying to become someone else.
Becoming a great but Fake someone else is like filling your garden with artificial flowers.
I’d rather have one real dandelion than an acre filled with Fake flowers.
From what I have observed in life, the people who work at mastering their Fake selves ultimately begin to believe that the lie that they created is the truth, and that is the most dangerous development of all. When the Lie becomes the Real, a person DOES become his own Fake Factory.
I write a lot about Denial. I have often said the following before:
What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive–ourselves.
The biggest problems that Fake Factories will encounter is that they have Fake Foundations. Like the Pig’s House of Sticks, a home with no foundation is heading for trouble. If Life huffs and puffs hard enough toward that foundationless frame, it will finally cause the frame to collapse.
I have often said this before, too, but allow me to repeat myself: All of us would like to change things about our pasts, but we must beware of the tendency to Toss the Baby with our Bathwaters. We need some roots to remain planted as protection for the event of a storm.
It may not be a perfect path and without any stones, but the trip into being oneself is the road that I recommend.
©Jacki Kellum April 19, 2016
“I was a dandelion puff…Some saw the beauty in me and stooped quietly to admire my innocence. Others saw the potential of what I could do for them, so they uprooted me, seeking to shape me around their needs. They blew at my head, scattering my hair from the roots, changing me to suit them. Yet still others saw me as something that was unworthy and needed to be erased.” – Nicole Bailey-Williams