Alter Ego. Literally translated from Latin it means ‘the other I.’ I admit I had to look that up, six hours a week for years of ‘Veni, Vidi, Vici’ having obviously gone to waste.
I find the ‘Other Self’ to be a seductive concept, if I disregard the Jekyll/Hyde and multiple personality angles. It can mean many things: companion, soul mate, deputy, second self or even evil doppelganger. We all have them, other selves we can present to the world when needed, either to play a part expected of us, protect us from getting hurt or prevent unsuspecting bystanders from being overwhelmed with the full scope of our personalities.
I make small adjustments to my personality according to my day-to-day surroundings. I do not show the full scope of my ‘inner self’ at work as I would in the company of trusted friends. I do not curse when I am in the presence of older people, do not make my usual sarcastic jokes around those I have just met, and like to pretend that the baggage I have accumulated over the years has found a permanent home in the ‘Lost and Found.’ However, all that is just a heady combination of common sense and wishful thinking and does not constitute an ‘other self.’
I do posses a proper alter ego though. She keeps the more official side of my social life in existence, curbing my tongue when acidic comments are yearning to roll out of my mouth and smiling politely when I am approached with lewd asides or encounter stupidity. It is a social face I keep in a jar by the door and it is marginally enhanced by a certain amount of make up. I am not overly fond of this other me. Her superficial politeness irks me and if I can avoid bringing her out into the open I do.
Despite being as phoney as a 3-dollar bill, she has her uses. She is the one that sashays around rooms on borrowed heels at official functions, never once sharing my real self’s conviction that any minute now I will keel over and make a spectacle of myself, flailing arms and all, as gravity once again proves its existence. She has an air of confidence that never turns into arrogance, a way with words that is charming but never corny and remembers names and faces in the proper order. My life would be a lot smoother if I were a little more like her to tell you the truth.
In my personal life, I try to stay as far away from these ‘fake’ versions of myself as I possibly can. Physically, a push up bra is acceptable, but I draw my personal line at implanted enhancements. To each her own, but so far I have no plans to insert anything in my face, by needle or otherwise, that is not naturally there. Unfortunately not everyone shares my view that real is preferable to fake. In the past I have been horrified when the true nature of someone whom I thought I knew turned out to be totally different from what they had chosen to share with me up to that point. The mistake of believing an alter ego to be the real deal has left me feeling bewildered, gullible and hurt.
Maintaining an alter ego requires a lot of effort to avoid being caught out immediately. To create a complete other persona and live that lie takes dedication, determination and diligence, and in general I consider that kind of deception a waste of time. I am more or less used to my fake, social alter ego, though it has taken me years to smooth out her rough edges – and still I slip up when she is out in full force. One moment of relaxation and suddenly she (or I) will unexpectedly deliver a comment that leaves a stunned silence in its wake. She can only survive if I concentrate of keeping my real self firmly hidden and that is what I ultimately find offensive.
