The Internet’s Obsession with “Authenticity”
Why fun, filters, and boundaries aren’t the problem.. but entitlement is.
Author’s Note:
This piece isn’t about technology, trends, or taking sides. It’s about boundaries, vulnerability, and the quiet difference between authenticity and entitlement. If you read with curiosity, you’ll find yourself here. If you read looking for something to argue with, this probably isn’t for you… and that’s okay.
I’m noticing two trends right now… and the contrast between them is telling:
On one side, people are having fun sharing their ChatGPT Christmas portraits. On the other, people are criticizing those posts, calling them creepy, fake, or inauthentic… often with a predictable side of moral panic and *conspiracy theories.
What’s interesting to me isn’t the technology; it’s the reaction.
Somewhere along the way, having fun online became a moral offense, and “authenticity” turned into a demand… a way to police how people show up, what they share, and how much access they owe strangers.
*I’m not here to address the conspiracy theories. People always jump there with technology they don’t understand or won’t take the time to research for themselves … they just regurgitate whatever fear-mongering they’ve absorbed to feel informed or included.
What I do want to address is the most common objection I’ve seen:
“It’s not authentic.”
(Which is especially ironic coming from people whose profile photos are professional headshots… hair styled, makeup done, lighting perfect, and yes… airbrushed. Let’s not pretend those are untouched slices of raw humanity.)
I’ve always said this:
If you want my authentic self… read me. Don’t look at me.
My outward appearance has never reflected who I know myself to be on the inside. That’s why I don’t do lives, coffee chats, or casual video calls. I’ll get on video if I trust you, if it’s the only way we can work together; or if you’re paying me … but, even then, I often suggest audio-only so we can focus on listening and hearing over reading too much into visual cues.
That doesn’t come from fear. It comes from experience. I’ve learned some very hard lessons about vulnerability and authenticity. Not everyone deserves your vulnerability
.
And that includes the demand to show up bare-faced, unfiltered, or exposed for the consumption of strangers on the internet… strangers who love to make assumptions about you based on your appearance.
I’ve written extensively about this before in The Unapologetic Matrix Self, and I’ve linked it again so you can read it. Keep reading this current piece below.
What I’ve learned since writing that piece is this: People no longer automatically get my vulnerability.
I am authentic… but authenticity is not the same as open-book exposure. I no longer offer unrestricted vulnerability to everyone. Not because I’m afraid, but because it’s irresponsible to do so. It’s self-protection; it’s preservation… of dignity, if nothing else.
The fact that people are publicly criticizing others for having fun with a ChatGPT prompt proves my point. This comes on the heels of people criticizing others for posting photos of their Thanksgiving food.
Can we just… stop?
(Yes, I realize I’m criticizing the critics. I get the irony.)
I posted a photo of my Thanksgiving plate with a joke about carbs… purely to make people laugh.. and got roasted for posting food. Whatever. I genuinely feel sorry for people whose mission seems to be robbing joy from others over what they choose to share on their own profiles or blogs.
“You use too many words.”
It’s a blog post. I’m a writer. This is not a 150-character caption. If reading annoys you, there are platforms like X built for that. You won’t find me there, I promise.
So yes… this is my blog. & I’m going to share the fun I had with ChatGPT.
The ChatGPT fun is not people trying to trick you. They admit they tried the ChatGPG prompt or jumped on the bandwagon and don’t intend for others to take it seriously…. but there are those who do this crap:
Which brings me to vulnerability.
When Kevin experienced his emergency amputation on February 11, our household income disappeared overnight. I shared parts of that journey publicly. We had emergency savings… they ran out in May. Many people watched. Some commented. Some expressed sympathy. Most were silent. (The same happened when my dad died and when my brother died.)
But the people who actually showed up? Family. Close friends who have known me since college. One friend we didn’t even meet in college, but shared mutual friends from that season and reconnected later.
The fundraiser we attempted? No one outside that close circle stepped forward.
There’s a quote from a favorite movie about how people will come running to watch you burn, watch you struggle, watch you squirm and suffer - but not to help; just to witness the suffering to make themselves feel better about their own lives. We learned that the hard way.
And yet.. it is a profound gift to learn who truly shows up. Who checks in. Who prays and follows up. Who helps quietly, without performance. I learned this when my dad died, when my brother died, and again this past year with Kevin’s amputation.
My number one need is safety and security. When that was ripped out from under us this year, I have never felt more vulnerable. And when I expressed need publicly, I received messages from people who were not invested in our well-being at all:
“Get a job.”
“Get over it.”
“Quit asking for help.”
“There are tons of resources if you’d just look.”
(As if we hadn’t already looked. As if they knew our reality better than we did.)
I noticed something else too. When I expressed a need for my pets.. ie pet food .. that need was met quickly. I’ve seen GoFundMe campaigns for missionaries traveling to help strangers in other countries, meal trains, and medical crises fill up almost instantly for others.
No one did that for us. I had to get pretty vulnerable and set that up on my own.
Kevin’s family were the only ones to visit him in the hospital, aside from my mom, one coworker, and 3 people from a church we left years ago after my brother died. A young woman… the daughter of a close friend… helped me with my hair without charging me. A few friends Venmo’d me money so I could eat while sitting in the hospital for days. A business coach/mentor offered her program to me she knew I was interested in for free. She has also got on two calls with me as I’ve been planning for my own business growth in 2026.
Being vulnerable to everyone left us feeling more alone than we’ve ever felt. This experience also gave me a deep compassion for people whose safety nets disappear … or who can’t afford insurance. I honestly cannot imagine walking this journey without it… and that is exactly where I’m headed after this month.
Now, I reach out only to people I know care. Not everyone deserves access to our story. Someone knew our Christmas tree was bare underneath when I shared my finished tree and quietly sent money for gifts for my kids. Speaking of - here is a video I took…
That is humanity.
The general public does not deserve unlimited vulnerability. The cost is too high. Society has forgotten how to be human… how to be kind, present, and compassionate.
We lost my cousin James this week. His memorial spoke about how he showed up for people… dropped everything, was present, cared deeply. That kind of humanity is rare. The world lost a gem when we lost James.
So yes… I’ll keep letting AI airbrush my photos that I do my best to keep them looking like me. I’ll continue refusing random video chats. I’ll keep my camera off on Zoom. I’ll leave any meeting the moment breakout rooms are mentioned. Strangers assigned by Zoom do not deserve my vulnerability. They have done nothing to earn my trust. I will also continue unfollowing people who criticize others for what they post that brings them joy.
How do you earn my trust?
Message me.
Engage thoughtfully.
Share what resonates.
Demonstrate care… not entitlement.
What you read in my writing is me.
Even then, I’m often misunderstood because people project, skim, or filter through their own agendas. Even if I have AI help me organize my thoughts / structure so it’s easier for you to read… I do not let it strip my writing of me. And I edit the results when it’s done organizing my thoughts and structure.
So please… stop trying to rob people of their joy. Stop messaging and kicking them when they are down. Unless you’ve been in their exact situation, stop telling them where to find resources to make yourself feel better about not helping. (Just don’t help and be silent.) Stop criticizing others for what they share on their own profiles. Or spot an em dash and accuse them of being inauthentic just because you assume they clearly use AI to write their stuff due to an em dash making an appearance. (Some weird people actually use those things and you would be wrong to assume that about them just because of their use of a punctuation character!) Yes, your tribe of “yes people” may applaud you & chime in as if to gang up on some imaginary opponent… but this mean girl gang mentality doesn’t make you righteous. It just makes you smaller & appear that you never outgrew the 7th grade girl drama. It’s not a good look for you!
Authenticity is not exposure.
Vulnerability is not owed. Neither is access.
Joy does not require permission.
I’ll keep showing up the way I know how… through words, meaning, and intention… and I’ll keep protecting what is sacred to me. I don’t need anyone’s permission to do so.
If you want to know me, read what I write. If you want access, earn trust.
And, for the love of all that is human and kind, if someone else is enjoying a harmless moment of creativity or fun online, maybe the most human response is simply to let them have it.
Vulnerability is sacred. Trust is earned. Presence still matters.
Let’s stop confusing authenticity with entitlement… and let people keep their joy.
Live Ignited!
MelAnn
I’d like to take the time to thank those who have shown up. I hope I didn’t miss anyone. Apologies if I did: God. My mom. My cousin Tana. Kari. Angela. Susan. Kenton. Karen. Matt. Dick & Jane. Jay & Michelle. The DeLuna family. Kim. Cynthia, Kip & Vincent. Raelynn. The Harris family. Wendy. Misty. Kelly. Vonia. April. Jen. Brad. Sherry. Kimberly. Gayle. Kerri. Sandra. Melodee. Krystal, Rhonda. Thank you for the prayers, groceries, gift cards, financial support, support, genuinely reaching out, etc.
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