Have you ever pretended you’d seen a movie because everyone else in the conversation was talking about it? Or nodded along when someone mentioned a book, podcast, or band you’d never heard of? Maybe you’ve laughed at a joke you didn’t really find funny, agreed with an opinion you weren’t sure you shared, or developed a sudden interest in a hobby because someone you wanted to impress loved it.
Most of us have done some version of this. In fact, these little moments of self-editing are a normal part of social life. We naturally look for common ground with other people, and emphasizing our similarities helps conversations flow more easily.
However, just like most things in life, it is possible to overdo a good thing. When leaning into our commonalities shifts to hiding parts of ourselves because we’re afraid we won’t be accepted, we can actually feel more alone.
Why We Change Ourselves to Fit In
Humans are fundamentally social creatures. Throughout most of our evolutionary history, belonging to a group wasn’t just nice to have; it increased our odds of survival. As a result, our brains are well-attuned to noticing the behaviors, opinions, and interests that seem to earn approval from other people.
That’s why changing ourselves often feels rewarding, at least in the short term. We experience the satisfaction of fitting in. Similarity may be what gets the relationship started, but it doesn’t necessarily lead to feeling close.
The Cost of Self-Editing
The problem with over-editing yourself isn’t that people won’t like you. In fact, they often will.
But difficulties arise when similarity comes at the expense of authenticity. If you repeatedly hide your preferences, soften your opinions, or pretend to enjoy things you don’t, other people never really get the chance to know you. They’re responding to a carefully curated version of yourself.
The more accepted you become, the harder it can be to trust that acceptance. After all, if someone likes the version of you that always agrees and is interested in all the same things, would they still like you if they knew what you were really thinking?
I’ve had many clients tell me, “I have friends, but I still feel lonely.” On the surface, that doesn’t seem to make sense, since loneliness is often described as not having enough relationships. But psychologically, loneliness is just as much about feeling unknown as it is about being alone.
Who Am I, Really?
Moreover, if you’ve spent years saying yes to activities you didn’t enjoy, agreeing with opinions you weren’t sure you held, or changing your personality depending on who you were with, you might lose track of what you really want or think. Rather than expressing your own identity, you take your cues from the people around you.
Ironically, the strategy that was meant to help you feel connected can leave you feeling disconnected from yourself. And when you’re not sure who you are, it’s nearly impossible to let someone else truly know you.
Building Trust in Others and Yourself
If your goal is a closer relationship, it’s worth asking yourself this question before you engage with others: Is this behavior moving me toward the kind of relationship I want, or just helping me feel safer in the moment?
As we’ve discussed, changing yourself to fit in often works in the short term. You avoid the discomfort of disagreement, make “fast friends,” and feel less anxious about whether you’ll be accepted. But those same behaviors can have long-term costs. When you hide your opinions, interests, or personality to gain approval, it’s difficult to feel genuinely known, and even harder to trust that people would like the real you.
Loneliness Essential Reads
Instead, try choosing behaviors that move you toward connection, even if they feel a little vulnerable. Admit that you haven’t seen the movie everyone is discussing. Suggest the restaurant you actually want to try. Share an opinion that reflects what you genuinely think, even if someone else may disagree. These aren’t dramatic acts of authenticity. They’re small opportunities to discover that people don’t reject you for being a little bit different than them. You also can collect evidence that closeness grows when people have the chance to know who you really are.
Over time, small moments of authenticity can give you the confidence to open up about more vulnerable topics like your family history, mental health, and other personal discussions. And, as people accept the whole you, you’ll feel more comfortable in your relationships and yourself.
Will everyone respond the way you hope? Probably not. But the goal isn’t to be liked by everyone. The goal is to build relationships in which you don’t have to wonder whether people like you or the carefully edited version you’ve been presenting.
