The Honesty That Dating Requires (And Why It Feels So Scary)
Your authentic self isn't "too much"—it's the perfect filter for finding the right connections.
For many of us, the first relationship advice we receive is to be ourselves. Heck, even Disney’s Aladdin (my favorite childhood Disney movie) conveyed this with Genie, transformed into a bee, telling Aladdin that he doesn’t need to impress Jasmine. He just needs to “Bee yourself.”
And just like Aladdin, many others and I have felt that it was impossible because we carried an internal story that we’re not good enough as ourselves. Yet our drive to love and be loved doesn’t disappear. So how do we manage? By showing the parts of ourselves we think our romantic interests would desire.
This 'not good enough' story didn't appear out of nowhere. For adult daughters from complex families, this belief was often woven into every interaction—the subtle (or not-so-subtle) message that who you are naturally isn't quite right, isn't quite enough.
This backfires because we can only maintain the facade for so long, and the more we play pretend, the more our romantic interests connect with an inauthentic version of us. It becomes a disservice to the relationship you’re trying to cultivate and a disservice to you because you’re not allowing the real you to be received.
I’ve had clients tell me, “I know I should be myself when dating, but I’m terrified they’ll run.” That fear didn’t come from nowhere. Let me show you exactly where it came from—and why understanding this changes everything.
Photo by Leo_Visions on Unsplash
Why Your Authentic Self Feels Dangerous
Your fear of being “too much” isn’t irrational—it’s a perfectly logical response to a childhood that couldn’t hold all of you. This fear isn’t a character flaw—it’s a response to very real messages you received about what makes you lovable.
Many of us learned early that our big emotions, strong opinions, or authentic needs made us difficult. Maybe you were told you were “too sensitive” when you cried, “too loud” when you expressed excitement, or “too demanding” when you asked for what you needed. Over time, your nervous system learned a dangerous equation: Authentic me = Problem. So you started editing yourself—not because you were broken, but because you were smart enough to read the room and protect yourself from rejection.
We’ve been swimming in cultural messaging that tells us good women are low-maintenance, easy-going, and don’t ask for much. We’re praised for being “chill” and criticized for having standards.
For Black women especially, there’s an added layer: the strong Black woman trope that says needing anything makes you weak, and asking for support makes you a burden.
As a Black woman and daughter of Trinidadian immigrants, I understand how cultural expectations, racial stereotypes, and family dynamics intersect to make authenticity feel impossible. The 'strong Black woman' who handles everything alone isn't just a personal choice—it's a survival strategy that no longer serves you in creating intimate connections.
For those raised in immigrant households or achievement-focused families, love often felt conditional on performance. You learned that your worth was tied to your grades, your accomplishments, your ability to make your family proud. But your feelings? Your authentic preferences? Those took a backseat to being “good” and making things easier for everyone else. You became excellent at reading what others needed from you, but terrible at knowing what you needed for yourself. This is what therapists call relational attunement without self-attunement—you learned to read everyone’s emotional temperature except your own.
In generational growth therapy, we work to rebuild self-attunement—learning to recognize your own needs, desires, and boundaries as clearly as you recognize everyone else's. This is how you stop performing and start connecting authentically.
Here’s the thing: Hiding parts of yourself wasn’t a mistake—it was survival. When being authentic threatened your sense of safety or belonging, you did what any intelligent person would do: you adapted. You learned to perform the version of yourself that kept you safe, that kept love coming, that kept the peace. That wasn’t weakness. That was wisdom in an environment that couldn’t hold all of you.
So when you feel anxious about being real on a date, you’re not being dramatic—you’re remembering every time authenticity cost you love. Your body is trying to protect you the only way it knows how: by keeping you small, acceptable, safe.
But the dimming that once protected you is now preventing real connection. Because you can’t be genuinely loved for who you are if you’re busy being who you think someone needs you to be.
The Person Who Can’t Handle Your Honesty Isn’t Your Person
Here’s what I need you to hear, and I mean really hear: The person who’s overwhelmed by your honesty was never your person to begin with.
Let me say that again: If your authentic self—your real needs, your genuine feelings, your honest preferences—is too much for someone, they’re not rejecting you. They’re revealing themselves as incompatible.
And that’s actually a gift, even when it doesn’t feel like one.
Let’s address some lies you might be believing:
If being honest scares people away, you’re scaring away the wrong people. The right person—the one who’s actually equipped to love you well—will be relieved by your honesty. They’ll see it as a roadmap, not a red flag. They’ll appreciate knowing how to show up for you instead of guessing and getting it wrong.
Having needs isn’t the same as being needy. Authentic doesn’t mean unfiltered or unkind—it means honest. It means saying “I prefer this” instead of “whatever you want.” It means saying “I need some time to process” instead of pretending you’re fine when you’re not. That’s not overwhelming. That’s human.
And waiting until things are “serious” to show your real self? This is backwards. You can’t build something real on a foundation of performance. The person who falls for the edited version of you isn’t falling for you—they’re falling for the character you’re exhausted from playing.
The right person won’t just tolerate your honesty—they’ll value it.
And the person who needs you to be smaller, quieter, easier? They’re not ready for the kind of love you’re trying to build. And that’s not your failure—that’s your filter working exactly as it should.
Stop auditioning for people who should be auditioning for you.
Dimming yourself doesn’t protect you from heartbreak. What you’re actually protecting is the fantasy that if you just perform well enough, you’ll finally earn unconditional love. But love that requires a performance is, by definition, conditional. It guarantees that even if things work out, you’ll be lonely inside the relationship. You’ll have connection, but not true intimacy. You’ll be loved, but not truly known.
And you didn’t do all this work on yourself to end up unknown.
Permission granted.
If you've been dimming yourself in relationships and you're ready to show up authentically—even when it feels terrifying—I'm currently accepting new clients for online therapy. We'll work together to help you filter for real love instead of settling for performed connection.
Your Practice This Week: The Honesty Inventory
Before your next date (or meaningful conversation if you’re currently dating), sit with these questions:
Journal Prompts:
What am I afraid will happen if I’m fully honest about my needs/wants in dating? Get specific. What does rejection look like in your worst-case scenario? What would it mean about you? What old wound would it reopen?
Where did I first learn that my authentic self might be “too much”? Was it a parent who couldn’t handle your big emotions? A teacher who labeled you difficult? An ex who made you feel like your needs were burdens? Identify the source to understand this fear was taught, not inherent.
How might honesty actually serve both me and the person I’m dating? List every benefit: It saves time by filtering out incompatible matches early. It gives them a chance to actually show up for the real you. It builds trust. It protects your energy. It creates space for genuine intimacy.
Daily Practice:
Each day this week, practice one small act of honesty: state a real preference, share an actual feeling, express a boundary, or say what you actually mean. Start small. Notice what happens.
Your authentic self isn’t the problem that needs fixing. She’s the solution that’s been waiting for permission to exist.
The path back to you starts with the courage to stop hiding from you.
— Akilah
Let's Practice Together
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Ready to stop performing in relationships? If you're exhausted from editing yourself and ready to be loved for who you actually are, let's talk. Online therapy in PA, NJ, and DC.