$pent Millennial

Dear Reader,

They don’t have to understand.

This week I was listening to a podcast, and one line stopped me in my tracks:

Authentic people are not usually popular.

That surprised me. Mostly because “authentic” has become such a buzzword. We praise people for their “authenticity”. I’ve even been complimented on mine.

But when I look back—honestly, even now—I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been “popular.” I wasn’t bullied or teased, but I also wasn’t the kid at the top of the social ladder.

When we’re younger, being authentic isn’t always rewarded. High school teaches us to fit in, follow trends, and smooth out our edges. Authenticity often doesn’t make the cut.

As we get older, the pressure to conform loosens. Sometimes authenticity is admired, even if quietly. But there are still plenty of times when it makes people uncomfortable—because it reflects something back to them that they’d rather not see, or goes against the assumed “rules of engagement” that we as a society have conformed to. 

Like many authentic people, I’ve always been happiest marching to the beat of my own drum. I know what I know and I do my best to stay in alignment with that. I’m terrible at “faking it.”

The knowing I refer to is not intellectual and has nothing to do with being “smarter” than anyone else. I am talking about an internal knowing that speaks to you and pulls like an interal compass charting a path forward. Everyone has it, but it seems some people are more intuned with and attuned to theirs than others. I believe it is like a muscle. The more you use and listen to it, the stronger it becomes. 

Authentic people are often truth-seekers and truth-speakers. That means we sometimes end up standing against what’s popular, convenient, or accepted. 

When I was younger, this felt unbearable. I constantly wanted to scream:

“Why can’t you see what I see? What are we even doing?”

With age, I’ve grown into a quieter authenticity. I can still see things clearly, but I don’t always feel the need to call it out. I can hold my knowing, make my decisions, and stay aligned—without needing to shame or expose others.

Still, sometimes the struggle comes back.

There’s a dual pull:

1. The urge to help others see what I see, because I believe it could help them too.

2. The urge to seek justice, to expose what’s wrong, to make it known.

I’ve been wrestling with that lately as I face a decision I know I need to make.

The questions spiral: How will it look? What will people think? What will they say? How will they react?

I’ve second-guessed myself a dozen times. Yet every time I almost change my mind, I end up right back at the decision I have already made. Because the truth is—I know. And once you have the knowing, there’s no going back.

That’s what separates authentic people: we act on that knowing. Even when it doesn’t make sense to others. Even when it looks reckless, inconvenient, or confusing.

Because the knowing comes from within. It’s not built on outside approval.

And here’s the hardest part: it’s not your job to make your inner knowing make sense to others. They may never understand. And that’s okay.

Sometimes the decisions are small—ones that feel aligned to you but baffling to others. Other times, the stakes are higher. There’s more on the line: reputation, relationships, consequences.

But big or small, the call is the same: honor your knowing. Stay in alignment with yourself.

I won’t pretend it’s easy. Sometimes it is. But the times when it matters most—the decisions that really shape us—are usually the hardest. 

That’s where I am right now. In the middle of something that doesn’t make sense from the outside, and it has been excruciating. But I know what I need to do. And I’m reminding myself daily: it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else. At the end of the day, the one person I have to live with and answer to is me. 

If you’re working through a decision that feels the same way—hard, confusing, maybe even isolating—know this: you are not alone. It is not your job to make others understand. And it is none of your business how they react.

Until next week, take care and be well. 

Everett