I was 7 years old when I got caught stealing. I was outside of the store when the manager rapped on the window, pointed at me, and yelled, “wait right there”. I stood there, watching him walk further into the store to exit the counter, then on the other side of the counter to the doorway, through the door, and then coming to stand before me.

He looked me in the eye and, in an interrogating tone, asked, “did you just steal something from my store?” I looked down at the ground and mumbled softly, “yes, sir”.

“Hand it over”, he demanded. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the piece of bazooka bubble gum I’d stolen, and handed it to him. Total value, one penny.

He leaned forward, placing his hand under my chin and gently lifted my head until I was looking him directly in the eye. In a firm voice he declared, “I know who your mama is. Do you think she’d be happy to hear that you were stealing?” Tears ran down my cheeks as I slowly shook my head from side to side.

“Well, I’m not going to tell her this time. But you have to promise you’re never going to steal anything again, not from me and not from anyone else either. Do you understand me?” I nodded. Then he smiled and in a gentle tone told me, “You’re not a thief. You’re a good boy. You remember that.”

I graduated from high school having never told a lie, taken a drink of alcohol, smoked a cigarette, or used profanity. He was right, I was a good boy.

Fast forward 20 years from that incident at the store. I owned a successful consulting company, was on the board of directors of an organization with over 2,000 members, was the editor and a contributing author to the organizations newsletter, and had just delivered the keynote address to 1,500 attendees at their annual conference with speakers from all over the US, which I had also organized.

One night I attended a meeting and sat down at a table with 9 others. They were immersed in an animated argument over the merits of a particular programming methodology. As I sat there listening, a thought suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. I wondered, who are these people? Then it occurred to me, who the hell am I and how did I get here?

Later, after a bit of introspection, the evidence clearly proved that I had become an arrogant asshole.

About this same time I was finishing up a huge project for a billion dollar company, acting as a project manager for two dozen employees and consultants. Every one of the managers from the numerous departments I had to deal with throughout this project was a backstabbing prick. There was hardly a single person at that company that I could trust. I was miserable beyond description.

So I made some big changes. I completed the project and told them I was going on vacation and wasn’t coming back. I resigned from the board of directors and turned over the newsletter to someone else. I also gave away all my suits and ties. I haven’t worn a suit or a tie or shiny shoes in 20 years.

I continued speaking and consulting, although I was significantly more selective about my clientele. All this was necessary for me to get myself back to being a good boy again. I had given up far too much of myself in order to look and feel successful in the eyes of my peers. All this had happened so gradually that I hardly noticed, at least that’s what I told myself.

You shouldn’t have to practice being yourself. But if you’ve been pretending to be someone else for too long, you just might end up looking into the mirror one day and find a stranger staring back.