A Man’s Image Must Not Be a Work of Fiction

A man should be what he seems.

If you have to hide a big part of yourself at work or at home then something is wrong, and you need to fix it.

This is a rule because a man can’t be his best if he must hide much of who he is. We cannot be Bruce Wayne and Batman. Both roles suffer in any nonfiction life. This isn’t to say we can’t quietly be heroes; actually, being truly heroic means being humble, and therefore quiet about our gallantry. What this means is we can’t play different characters with different values and expect one not to bleed on the other.

We excel when we’re the same honest person at work as we are during our off hours. Superman can be nerdy and wimpy Clark Kent before whirling into the caped hero in red and blue at the first hint of calamity, but he wasn’t even human in fiction. He is from the imaginary planet Krypton.

All of us have seen someone who hates their job and so transforms themselves behind a mask of indifference as they enter their workplace. They become unhappy shadows of themselves. They are not as productive as they could be because they are not fulfilled. They are not likeable because they are deeply unhappy. Their chance of getting a promotion plummets because of their attitude. As they get older they’ll likely submit and become half-dead employees, the walking dead of the American workplace. Or maybe they’ll finally get fired—no one likes someone who deadens the life of a workplace—and then they might really get bitter. Or perhaps something in them will grow and grow until they finally rebel and quit. They’ll have a chance to become something then if they already haven’t given up too much.

Now think about the happiest people you know. Chances are, they are comfortable in their skins. They fit in with their surroundings, colleagues, and friends. They have youthful enthusiasm, even if they are not young. They are what they seem. They don’t change if they’ve had a few drinks after hours because they are who they are; they having nothing to hide; and they treat others with dignity, strength, and respect. You like them, because you feel you know them and can trust them. They get promoted. People like working for them. True, some resent their comfort and happiness—but those who do are mostly the employees that don’t fit in, who hate their jobs, who are deeply unhappy, who are insincere when they are nice and back-biting whenever they can. They are the bitter walking dead of the American workforce; they didn’t change course—in their careers or in their development of character or personality—when they should have.

If you are not where you want to be, you need to do an honest self-assessment and figure out how to get there. Maybe it means switching companies or careers. Maybe it means finding a better mentor. Maybe it means enlarging or diversifying your skills. Maybe it means an attitude adjustment—and doing the things that give you hope, because from hope comes happiness.  Sometimes that means digging deep into our interior lives and confronting things about ourselves that need to change. Success, as the world often measures it—in terms of money or fame—is no guarantee of happiness. It is the journey that counts. It is the journey you choose. And you should choose the heroic part. That choice makes all the difference. That doesn’t mean you have to be a super hero. It does mean that you should be humble, honest, and strong—a gentleman.

A stand-up man of honor and action who honestly shows people this is liked, more likely successful, comfortable in their role, and forever moving up to greater quests. It still isn’t easy, as some will convict you for being a man in this contradictory age, but this isn't something that should bother a man of strength.