In the millennium “authenticity” is one of the words that get thrown around a lot as it relates to branding. The interesting phenomenon is that “authenticity” means different things to different people. There are also occasions where some people’s authenticity is like a maze or a macabre mystery.
Meaning that there are so many layers to his or her existence that his/her “authenticity” is not easily figured out. Some folks have to live this way because there are too many prying eyes. Nothing ruins a life more than when privacy is invaded.
For instance, in my life “authenticity” may seem strange. I have four sets of parents. When I was younger, depending on how my relationship was going with each, I would choose to focus on the set that was being understanding and nicer.
There are my biological parents, my aunt and her husband who raised me until I was 12 years old, my step parents, and my adoptive parents. Growing up with my biological parents, they were financially sound and I lacked nothing.
Even when the marriage imploded, and I went to live with my aunt my lifestyle did not change. In many ways I may have been a bit spoiled since she tried to comfort me because of the trauma I had been exposed to at such a young age.
My adoptive parents only made cameo appearances in the beginning and so from early on I equated their existence with fun. Since they would often send the coolest Disney memorabilia and treats via family members for me and my cousins.
Even when I migrated to America I knew things would be different because there would not be any housekeepers, gardeners or other household help. It wasn’t such a culture shock since in secondary school I had learned to make my bed, boil an egg, and needlepoint in Home Economics. Therefore to some point I was well prepared for the “latch key kid” experience America offered. I knew enough basic skills to not create mayhem in the house when alone.
Later on in life when I would visit my biological father and stepmom in Jamaica, the lifestyle was a surreal existence. It was synonymous to being on vacation every single day. Since I rarely saw them I would get the red carpet treatment and every day was a new adventure.
It was similar to the life I lead as a toddler since my dad is one who believes in being active and never moping about the house. The ever changing weather in America had made me forget that I was not raised to be a wallflower. My biological dad always kept me engaged and active as a child as it related to sports and other activities.
Each branch of my parents come with varying cultures, socioeconomic status, rules and regulations. The things I would get away with regarding my aunt and her husband were frowned up on by my adoptive parents.
My biological dad is probably the most persnickety of them all. When visiting I knew I would have fun but I also knew that every step I made was being scrutinized and I would hear about it at a later date. As I got older and began visiting my birth mother, she was stricter than all of them and had so many boundaries.
To some, she appeared to be over indulgent with me. I also knew not to take advantage because of her mental health and other issues. During my life, I learned to be adaptive at a young age in various family dynamics. To my friends they believed my life was charmed and made in the shade.
However I knew that certain members of my family made sacrifices along the way to give me the things I asked for. I was never one to emote my feelings. My aunts quickly learned that if I were brooding a pretty dress or two would cheer me right up.
Therefore gifts became the language we communicated through. My entire life I never spoke much about my family dynamics or parents. Therefore people assumed a lot about me. Some would say I am as rich as creases while others may say, I am a phony putting on airs or not minted. It all depends on the family dynamics you are looking at.
Each set of parents come with a different financial flow and so I learned to adapt accordingly. I was never one of those kids who wanted everything on the planet. My aunt and her husband taught me about a good work ethic by the time I was nine.
Each summer I had a part-time job working at my aunt’s store to earn my comic book and ribbons for my hair money. My cousins and I looked forward to working there when school was on holiday. My adoptive parents also instilled in me that I could have anything I wanted as long as I worked for it.
My existence was never about being spoiled rotten. I was taught from an early age that working was good and that you can attain anything in this world with a good work ethic. My biological dad would also tell me that the tiny roles in life would often pay off in the end if consistency and perseverance were implemented.
In this life I have engaged in many lifestyles. Depending who you speak with you may hear lavish tales about me or not. I remembered when I was in my twenties and I invited friends over to my first apartment, they were shocked at my minimalist decor, especially since they knew my family well.
What folks did not know about me was that although I like nice things and designer apparel, I am also not one to follow the Joneses. I am not fond of clutter and I try to keep things simple for many different reasons.
Some Central Americans would think I am behind the eight ball when it comes to outwardly showing wealth and affluence. While others would say I am humble and down to earth. There are a few things I do not skimp on and they would be health, nutrition, travel, safety and my car.
When it comes to these five aspects I want all the trimmings and luxury life can afford. Sometimes I am impossible about things that are important to me. I have learned from experience that certain things you do not pinch pennies when purchasing.
Therefore, when it comes to “authenticity” I would say I am a barrel of contradictions. I live according to how I am feeling and who I feel I can trust in my world. If anything seems off kilter or awry I will change things up so bizarrely that people will believe I have gone completely hatstand.
I never put too much credence into whether or not people believe I am authentic. I have always lived by my own rules and have made an earnest effort to stay true to me. The more mature I become I do not feel the need to impress anyone. Most people are faking it till they make it anyway and that whole shite show is so exhausting I stay away by all cost.
Age and frame of references have given me a que sera attitude…If people decide to like me, I do not have to wow them or impress them. If they are “authentic” they will stick around no matter what. Once you play the game of trying to be in that “inner circle”, it becomes an endless quest of fitting in and changing yourself to adapt to their culture. Currently I much prefer folks who are willing to meet me where I am at on my journey of life.
Fighting For My Life Memoir 