What I Have Learned From Pinocchio About Being Real

There is something about being “real” that both amazes me and disgusts me. In my four decades of living as a human being, I think I’ve never heard of a phrase used as often as “being real” or “being me”. We seem to be obsessed with the idea of “finding our true selves”. How many times have we criticized people for being hypocrites?

I think reality shows abound because we wanted to see people behind their masks. We want to know the pain they’re hiding, the anger they’re trying to suppress. When we see celebrities unmasking their insecurities before our very eyes, don’t we all feel a little better? It’s as though another god has fallen from his pedestal and we can finally say that he’s as “real” as you and me. Who’d want to have another Pinocchio that keeps on lying and deceiving the people around him?

When I started blogging more than ten years ago, the title of my blog says it all. “I Take off the Mask” – that’s what I also wanted to do. To stop hiding my insecurities and flaws. To let people know how I really feel. And to finally find the courage to be “the real me”.

In my quest to uncover the “true me”, however, I have realized something else. And this thing became even more evident as I continued to pursue unmasking the person within me.

One by one, as I let my masks fall off, I have discovered that the person I was trying to find within was not the same person that I was beginning to see. The more I tried to search for my inner desires, the more confused I got. Not that I couldn’t see my flaws. Not that I couldn’t see the shadows that have long been screaming at me. But I have learned that the light that’s starting to peek from the cracks is far more frightening than the darkness I was prepared to find!

All along, I thought that “being real” is being the flawed person that I always feared to be. It is hearing the torments of my heart, pouring out my anger, seeing my fears and facing them all, and then accepting the kind of person that I am, even if I find a monster in front of the mirror.

Because that’s what we all wanted to do, isn’t it? To find the monster within and to be loved as that monster. To be like the Beast whom Beauty kissed and loved. Just as he is. Just as he’d always be.

But what if the true person you wanted to be is not that monstrous being you thought you’d find? What if being “you” doesn’t necessarily mean being “bad”? Come to think of it. Even the Beast wasn’t just a beast. He was a handsome prince within his monstrous form. And it was the love of Beauty that freed him to be the true person he should be.

Pinocchio was a pretty good liar when he was still a wooden puppet. He was a naughty and wretched toy who often ran into countless mischiefs. Didn’t he kick Geppetto, his maker, even before he was totally formed?

Pinocchio only became a real boy when he learned to be truly human. It wasn’t his mischiefs that made him real. It was the true character of a good person.

And that’s what I have realized also upon searching for my true self. I have learned that the true self I’m trying to find is not the angry, fearful and insecure person that has long been waiting to be unmasked. That’s just the initial layer that has been trying to make itself heard. There is still an inner layer that should come out, the real person that speaks more about who I am than the many vices I used to see.

Because if I were to be true to myself, I must admit that I’m not proud of my wrongdoings. If I were to be honest with myself, I must admit that I’m not happy at all in hurting other people.

It hurts whenever I see my loved ones hurt because of a careless word that I’ve spoken. It hurts whenever I see other people distressed because I have failed to control my temper. If I were to be true to my desires, this is not the kind of person I wanted to be.

All the painful feelings I have ever experienced are not the result of hiding my darkness. It is failing to recognize that I’m not content to live in the dark.

This is not about trying to be perfect. This is not about ignoring our brokenness and our need to be healed. This is about recognizing the true dignity of our being.

Why did I ever believe the fake news about our worthlessness? Where did we ever get the idea that in order to be true, we must succumb to being bad?

We are only fearful and angry and tormented because we have not been pursuing our true desires. We stop searching when we find that we are flawed. We dare not dig anymore for fear of the greater darkness we may find.

But what we have failed to see is the treasure waiting to be found within each and every one of us. It is the voice of goodness that’s truly waiting to be heard.

Isn’t it true that diamonds appear to be rough stones at first before they’re properly cut and polished? After they’re properly cut, they become priceless jewels and we finally see the true stone hiding within.

That’s the same for us. If we could only endure the painful process of polishing, we’d see the true beauty within us. If we could only continue pursuing our good desires, we’d someday see the lasting fruits that would make us happier than we’ve ever expected to be.

I am not there yet, but I’m in the process of being polished. I may not have accomplished much, but I now know the kind of person I’m looking for.

The true me is not that wooden puppet that keeps on lying and doing mischiefs, succumbing to my rough inclinations and impulses. The real me is one that shines with virtue and goodness, unafraid to hear my heart’s desire to be braver and kinder than I ever thought I could be.

“Prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish, and someday, you will be a real boy.”— The Blue Fairy, Pinocchio