Summary
Becoming real takes time. It takes courage. And it happens most deeply in relationships where we can be known, not simply admired.
In the famous children’s book The Velveteen Rabbit, a profound question is asked: “What is real?” It emerges in a poignant conversation between a curious young rabbit and a wise old Skin Horse.
What a great question: What is real?
In Caro Burke’s complicated and acclaimed novel Yesteryear, we meet a “Tradwife” influencer with millions of social media followers. She presents herself as having the perfect life and the perfect family, while concealing who she really is. Her identity becomes increasingly dependent upon the number of likes and the applause she receives for her carefully curated social media posts.
In the end, however, this carefully constructed identity proves to be a false self. As the novel unfolds, so does her identity and her sense of who she is, and the consequences are devastating.
In depth psychology, theorists have long explored the distinction between the false self and the real self, or between a pseudo-self and a solid self. Social media can put this split on steroids. We can carefully construct an image of ourselves and then begin to confuse that image with who we actually are.
Again, the question: What is real?
The question of identity is an important one that all of us struggle with. The great psychoanalyst Erik Erikson suggested that forming an identity is one of the most important developmental tasks of adolescence, but the question of identity obviously continues throughout our lives.
Who are we, and what grounds us?
What is the difference between our real self and the pretend self; or the persona we create and attempt to live into?
The family therapist Murray Bowen described this tension in terms of the pseudo-self and the solid self. A pseudo-self is the self we attempt to be: the image we construct through social media, through the approval of others, or through what Carl Jung called the persona; the face we present to the world.
In contrast, a more solid or “real” self is formed in the crucible of deep relationships.
And, of course, that takes courage.
It takes the courage to share who we really are. It requires the willingness to risk vulnerability, disappointment, and even rejection. Yet it is precisely through those risks that genuine intimacy is forged.
Listen to how the Velveteen Rabbit puts it:
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real.”
“But does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” the Skin Horse continued. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily.”
By the time you become real, the Skin Horse explains, you may be worn and shabby. Your hair may have been rubbed off, your eyes may have fallen out, and you may be loose in the joints.
But none of that matters.
Because once you are real, you can’t be ugly.”
Perhaps that is one of the great challenges of our age: learning to become real in a culture that constantly invites us to perform.
Social media asks, “How do you want to be seen?”
Deep relationships ask a different question:
“Who are you, really?”
Becoming real takes time. It takes courage. And it happens most deeply in relationships where we can be known, not simply admired.
Join us for upcoming workshops exploring how we can move beyond the carefully constructed self and discover what it means to become more fully real.
