Just. Be. You. Yeah right.

Written by Janani D'Silva, active gratefulness practitioner, coach and technology consultant.

There's a lot of advice out there about just being yourself. Oh man, I've heard those words come out of my mouth at career fairs time and again, to students asking what will make them successful. I hear fellow recruiters saying the same. Just be you! Pfffft...like it's so easy!

If being yourself was so simple, we wouldn't spend a majority of our life time trying to fit in.

I've read that wanting to fit in happens organically around the age of 5. I've observed it in my kids and in myself. The normalising, the ostercising, the social order that goes with fitting into the herd.

For me, fitting in was a little hard as a child. My parents migrated to New Zealand for our safety, as our homeland was a war zone. Being the only Sri Lankan kid at school wasn't easy. Starting with the 32 letter-15 syllable full name didn't help, different accent, different colour, different religion, different food, different everything really. At least we spoke English I suppose.

The job of not being myself started at the age of 8. The seeds to needing to fit in were sown every time something embarrassing happened. Like watching the look of terror on your teacher's face as they approached your name on the role call. I learnt to say yes, I'm here before they read my name, with the giggles from class mates based on the hesitation.

A not so smart move of fitting in happened at the first swimming carnival I was a part of at school. I jumped in the pool to race because I didn't want to again be the weird kid - but yeah, I didn't know how to swim. Just really wanted to fit in. Yup, had to be saved by a vigilant teacher - don't ask me how I got through the checks and triple checks for non swimmers. Did it make me fit in? Ha ha, no, ended up being the weird kid who nearly drowned.

I remember the first real clue to being able to fit in came. Mrs Hart was her name. A teacher for standard 3. She couldn't say my name no matter how much she tried. She got embarrassed. I got embarrassed. She pointed to a girl named Jane and said, it's so similar to Jane, how about I call you Jan. My heart leaped. Oh my god a white name. Why hadn't I thought of that. "Yes Mrs Hart, I would love that". From that day on wards, I was Jan. It has been 31 years, and I'm still Jan - to friends, family, it's not terrible, I just love people saying my name - Jan or Janani; I take no offense.

Shortening my name paved the way to the rest of my life. It made it more possible to fit in to the majority white community at the time, because Jan made me more accessible. I felt like I belonged. A new found confidence was born. "My name is Jan, do you want to play" - easy as.

Fitting in looked different. I made up Christmas rituals, and amazing presents because we didn't celebrate Christmas - we are Hindus. I made up the normal things we ate - spaghetti bolognese was a favorite. I didn't actually eat my first spaghetti bolognese until the age of 18. But in my stories, it was my favourite. You know, all these things were also an armour against casual racism. Being called a curry muncher when you're young doesn't feel so good. It could have been someone driving past when I was walking home from school, or someone telling me to 'Go back where you came from" - occasional racism. So for me, it was to hide the fact I was still different.

As a teenager, fitting in was easier. I'm what we call a coconut. White on the inside and brown on the outside. I had grown up with these kids, I had my story down packed, My Sri Lankan side was well separate to the Kiwi side. The innocent racism was infrequent but stung when it came my way because I had forgotten my difference. Like the boy who liked me in high school - Eugene was his name. I remember the day clear as it was a minute ago. In biology class, aged 16, he said "I'd ask Jan out, she's pretty - pity she's black". There are many issues with that statement, but the overriding one was there was something still wrong with me and my skin colour. And until that time, I thought I was brown. So confusing, this racial profiling thing.

When you've been preoccupied by hiding the real you, when someone sees you, you are left surprised. You don't even know what's the real you anymore - whether you've evolved into this person, or are you just hiding under the many layers you have conjured for the sake of self preservation. You spend your time so preoccupied with being normal that your normal isn't your normal. It's the aspiration and the mirage of what you think will help you be happy, successful and fit in.

I have continued. As we all do. Gone on to study, get a job, keep real friendships, pursue happiness, contentment and satisfaction. The melanin in my skin didn't hold me back, the occasional racism didn't take away opportunity - I went to University, I graduated, I got great jobs and I grew. As I educate myself on systemic oppression on gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation - I feel lucky because my story is a little different, only peppered here and there with casual racism and that doesn't define me, my opportunities or my story.

As I continue to peel back the layers to reveal my true self, as I see that my point of difference is the fact I'm from so many different places, my ancestors are from the jewel of the Indian Ocean, I'm from the land of the long white cloud, I'm a Sydney-sider, I'm a woman, a mother, a coconut - all these shades make my voice unique and relevant. As do all the shades that make you, YOU.

So. I know you have a story similar to mine. No matter your colour, your gender, your accent, country of origin, your (dis)ability, your anxiety, your sexual orientation, chances are you are on your own journey, peeling back to find what the real you is. It's worth knowing, that your difference is what is needed for the future, your unique point of view.

Why fit in? When we were each made to stand out?

Go make your magic happen.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thank you for reading my article. I coach and mentor the junior workforce in the organisation I work for, and am also a mother of three, wife of one and friend of many! I have been in management consulting and technology project delivery for 19 years and my joy comes from helping clients, colleagues and friends succeed personally and professionally.