Today I Choose to be Congruent – How to be Congruent

For years, I got by on smiling through what I didn’t believe. In leadership meetings, I’d paint the picture people wanted to hear, then go home and vent to Curtis about the reality. I thought that was what being professional meant. But there’s a cost to living out of alignment with yourself—the fatigue of wearing a mask, the quiet erosion of trust in your own voice. Congruence, I’ve learned, doesn’t mean dumping your truth on everyone without filter. It means learning to bring your inside and your outside closer together, so the woman you are matches the one the world sees.

The breaking point came during a particularly absurd leadership meeting. The CEO was spinning fantasy projections while we were hemorrhaging money. Everyone nodded along. I heard myself saying, “That’s an interesting perspective,” when what I meant was, “That’s delusional and we all know it.”

That night, I couldn’t sleep. The gap between who I was at work and who I was at home had become a chasm. I was exhausted from the translation—constantly converting my real thoughts into corporate-speak, my concerns into “opportunities for growth,” my frustration into manufactured enthusiasm.

The Cost of Incongruence

Living incongruently is like wearing shoes that don’t fit. You can walk, but every step hurts a little. Over time, you develop calluses, change your gait, start avoiding certain paths. You adapt, but you’re never comfortable.

For me, the costs were:

• Physical exhaustion from constantly monitoring myself
• Resentment toward people who got the fake version
• Confusion about my own values and voice
• Imposter syndrome—because I literally was being an imposter
• Distance in relationships—even Curtis got a filtered version sometimes

What Congruence Actually Feels Like

In your body, congruence feels like alignment. Your spine straightens naturally, not from effort but from integrity. Your voice comes from your chest, not your throat. There’s a solidness, like all your pieces are finally facing the same direction.

It also feels vulnerable. When your inside matches your outside, there’s nowhere to hide. People see the real you—exhausted, uncertain, sometimes cranky. That’s terrifying after decades of performance.

The Journey to Congruence

Starting Small
I didn’t storm into the next meeting declaring brutal truths. I started with tiny alignments. Instead of “interesting perspective,” I tried “I see it differently.” Instead of fake enthusiasm, I offered genuine curiosity: “Help me understand your thinking.”

Finding My Real Voice
After years of corporate speak, I’d forgotten how I actually talk. I started paying attention to how I spoke with Curtis, with close friends, in my journal. That was my real voice—direct, sometimes funny, always honest.

Testing the Waters
I began letting more of my real self show at work. Admitted when I didn’t understand something. Shared a concern without softening it into oblivion. Said “I need to think about that” instead of agreeing to buy time.

Dealing with the Fallout
Some people preferred the agreeable version of me. One colleague said I’d become “difficult.” But others—the ones who mattered—said I’d become trustworthy. They knew where I stood, even if they disagreed.

Congruence vs. Brutal Honesty

Being congruent doesn’t mean saying everything you think. I don’t tell my mother-in-law her cooking is delicious but unhealthy. I don’t inform every struggling colleague they’re incompetent. Congruence is about alignment, not assault.

The difference:

• Brutal honesty: “This idea is stupid.”
• Congruence: “I have concerns about this approach.”

Both are true to my thinking, but congruence considers impact and relationship. It’s honest AND kind, not honest INSTEAD of kind.

Congruence in Different Areas

Professional Congruence
Now when the numbers don’t add up, I say so—clearly, without apology. When asked to support something I don’t believe in, I explain my reservations. My reputation shifted from “team player” to “truth teller,” and surprisingly, that’s more valuable.

Relational Congruence
With Curtis, I stopped pretending things were fine when they weren’t. With the kids, I admitted my struggles instead of maintaining the “mom has it all together” facade. Relationships deepened when I stopped performing.

Internal Congruence
The hardest congruence is with yourself—admitting what you really want, what you really feel, who you really are. At 61, I’m still working on this. Still discovering beliefs I hold that aren’t actually mine.

The Obstacles to Congruence

The Likability Trap
We’re trained to be likable, especially as women. Congruence sometimes means being less likable. That’s a hard trade, but authenticity beats popularity.

The Professionalism Myth
We’re told professionalism means neutrality, agreement, smooth surfaces. But the most professional thing might be honest discourse, respectful disagreement, textured truth.

The Peace-Keeping Pattern
After decades of smoothing things over, creating conflict by being congruent feels wrong. But fake peace isn’t really peace—it’s just delayed conflict.

The Fear of Consequences
What if being congruent costs me my job? My relationships? My reputation? These are real fears. But what’s the cost of incongruence? Your health? Your integrity? Your soul?

Building Congruent Practices

The Pause Before Speaking
Before responding, I ask: “Is what I’m about to say true to what I think and feel?” If not, I pause and find words that are.

The Body Check
My body tells me when I’m being incongruent—tight throat, clenched jaw, twisted stomach. I’m learning to trust these signals.

The Evening Review
Each night, I review: Where was I congruent today? Where did I split? No judgment, just noticing. Awareness is the first step.

The Safe Practice Space
I practice congruence in low-stakes situations first. With the barista, the neighbor, the grocery clerk. Building the muscle for when it matters more.

The Unexpected Gifts of Congruence

When I finally started bringing my inside and outside together:

• My chronic headaches decreased
• People started trusting my opinion more
• I stopped replaying conversations, worried I’d said the wrong thing
• My energy increased—performance is exhausting
• I attracted people who liked the real me

The biggest gift? I stopped feeling like a fraud. The woman at work, at home, in my head—they’re all the same person now. Imperfect, sometimes difficult, but real.

Today’s Choice

Today, choose to be congruent in one small way. Say what you actually think in a meeting. Admit you don’t understand something. Express a real feeling instead of the expected one. Let your face show what you’re feeling instead of arranging it into acceptability.

Start small. Congruence is a practice, not a performance. It’s about gradually closing the gap between who you are and who you show the world. Not perfect alignment—that’s impossible. But closer. Always closer.

Because at 61, I’m too tired to maintain multiple versions of myself. And I’m discovering that the real version—flawed, honest, sometimes inconvenient—is the one worth being.