Boasting Highlights Weaknesses, not Strengths

 Recently, as I sat at dinner with another prisoner from my housing unit, I felt a deep pity for the man sitting across from me, and sadness for the man I used to be. For some reason, this prisoner felt the need to tell me how violently he would respond (or has responded) to people who disrespect him or who try to "get down" on him. This sort of posturing is common in prison. In fact, it's common outside of prison too. I should know because I used to do it myself. It's a protection mechanism, against threats and against having weaknesses exposed. 

I easily recognized the insecurity in the man whom I was eating dinner with. Prisoners who metaphorically puff out their chests and paint an image of themselves as aggressive and ruthless are usually scared. Even being perceived as weak makes prisoners feel vulnerable. While I posed no threat to this other prisoner (except on the Scrabble board), his insecurity prompted his braggadocio. I assured him that while many things may prompt me to want to respond aggressively too, I am cultivating a peaceful lifestyle. 

Another prisoner recently interrupted my workout partners and me in the middle of a workout. He joined our pull-up routine, and then quickly started bragging that he had more experience working out than probably all of us combined. His bragging was a testament to his decades in and out of prison, where he spent much of his time in the weight pit. I, perhaps with a smirk on my face, asked if he'd ever competed in semi-pro weightlifting competitions. After he said he had not, I informed him that one person in our workout group had (not me!). His face marked his surprise and stopped his bragging. 

I feel sadness for prisoners who feel so insignificant that they look for ways to elevate themselves in importance over others. I also feel sadness for who I used to be, because my pride was a facade I used to both make myself feel better and to keep others from getting close. When other prisoners feel the need to boast about their exploits, acumen, or expertise, I want to hug them and say, "I accept you as you are." Trying to earn other people's acceptance or approval is exhausting. It also encourages inauthenticity. 

The problem with trying so hard for others' acceptance is that it often turns others away. Who wants to be around someone who brags about being violent or who feels the need to put others down to elevate himself? These are counterproductive to relationships. 

It is uncomfortable to live with other people's occasional misperceptions of who I am, but I have found my relationships to be much richer when I choose to live authentically. As author Brene Brown says, "Let go of who you think you're supposed to be and embrace who you are." Sure, we all have actual weaknesses, but I'd rather someone know mine and still desire a relationship than present an inauthentic me and feel disconnected as a result. 

Whatever my strengths are, I can use them to help others, and my weaknesses simply demonstrate my need for others' help. That's the beauty of choosing to live authentically. Pretentions don't get in the way of interconnectedness.