We are all pretending to be something we’re not.
We fit in to our parents’ expectations when we’re toddlers.
We fit in to the norms of our peers at school, or conform to the role of our idealised heroic loner.
We fit in to the roles expected of us as adults – husband, parent, dependable worker, boss.
But none of this is who we are.
The real us is the bit that knows that this process of inculturation is happening, that watches it taking over our lives, that regrets the pretence.
The Obvious? 