I’m sitting here, like, shaking almost. It’s 2 AM and I can’t sleep after tonight. Just got back from another one of those “networking mixers” the company makes us go to, and man, it’s like a whole other warzone, but with tiny quiches instead of bullets. Every single time, I tell myself I’m gonna be myself, just quiet and chill like I am, but then I see the big bosses, the ones who decide everything, and it’s like a switch flips. I gotta be the loud one. The funny one. The one who's always laughing, always got a story. It’s so fake. SO fake. Tonight was the worst. Mr. Henderson, the VP, he was there, and he’s always talking about “company culture” and “team spirit.” So I made sure to be, like, extra on tonight. I was telling some dumb story about when I was in basic training, trying to make it sound hilarious, even though it was mostly just… hard. And everyone was laughing, which felt good for a second, you know? Like I was doing it right. But then he said, “You really light up a room, don’t you? A real people person.” And I just smiled and nodded, but inside, I felt like throwing up. A people person. That's the opposite of me. The actual opposite. Back when I was in the service, we had to be tough. We had to be disciplined. You didn’t fake it. You were real, or you got chewed out, or worse. Here, it’s like you gotta put on a whole show every day, every single day. And the worst part is, I think they actually believe it. They think I’m this gregarious, boisterous guy. And I’m just... not. I just want to sit in my office and do my job. Do it well. Be dependable. Not put on this performance. It’s like I’m wearing a costume and it’s getting heavier and heavier. I just want them to see *me*. The quiet me. The me who actually thinks before he speaks, who doesn't need to be the center of attention. But I’m so afraid if I stop, if I just go back to being quiet, they’ll think I’m not "leader material" or something. Like I’m not good enough for them. I can’t afford that, not with everything I’ve done to get here. So I’ll keep doing it. Every mixer, every company event, I’ll put on the show. I’ll make the jokes, I’ll laugh too loud, I’ll pretend to love small talk. And then I’ll come home, like tonight, and sit in the dark, wondering if I’m just gonna forget who I really am eventually. It's like a piece of me gets chipped away every single time. And the shame… the shame of pretending to be someone I'm not, it just eats at me. It really does.