Why Do I Feel Most Like "Me" Around Complete Strangers?
How strangers help us test new versions of ourselves
“I just felt… myself. I know that’s weird, because they were strangers.”
This was a voice note my friend sent me after a solo trip to Croatia.
I’d said the exact thing to another friend six years ago, after my own trip. It was only two weeks, but I came back feeling more myself than ever.
We went from Vancouver to Calgary, through The Rockies. Just twelve of us, on a minibus.
On the second night, we had to pick tent-mates. I’d met these people literally the day before, and was about to share a tent with one of them for nine nights.
You’d think that would be horrifying and honestly if I did it again, I’d be booking a private space.
But it was hilarious. No, seriously!
Sometimes we’d drive for ten hours, and we’d all be crammed in yet somehow, miraculously, these strangers became my closest confidantes. We’d chat endlessly about childhood memories, our poor life decisions, and our most embarrassing moments. It felt like a school trip, in the best possible way.
One day, I opened up to a new friend about a guy I’d been seeing for months. It was messy. I wasn’t ready to talk to friends back home. But he listened for hours, without judging or trying to fix anything. Just listening.
I won’t say that I felt like a changed woman during that trip but it opened my eyes to what I could be. To the version of me that’s confident, chatty, vulnerable, and fully alive.
So when I heard my friend’s voice note, my brain spiraled: why do we sometimes feel most like ourselves with complete strangers?
Everyone Has Opinions About Who You Are
The problem with being 'authentically you' is that it's quite hard when you've lived your life so far with the same people around you, building up the same career, same family, living in the same area you've always done.
And that has benefits, right? Familiarity, comfort, safety.
Except that, it makes it so much harder to be anything different. It makes it so much easier to be worried about judgement.
Transitioning from a 9-5 corporate role to saying, 'I don't know what I'm doing yet,' has been really hard for me these past few months.
Everyone has a preconceived idea of who I am, and what I do: oh, that’s Imi, she works in Marketing, or Content, Digital Experience, or something like that.
At a wedding recently, I told everyone that I was a writer. As I said it, my body filled with tension, nerves and embarrassment. As if someone was about to ask me exactly how much I was earning, or what big publication I was writing for. But nobody batted an eyelid. Nobody gave me a judgemental look, no one asked about my old job. No one asked me how my 'job hunt' was going.
They took it seriously. That was an amazing feeling. Being surrounded by people who believed I was a writer because that’s what I said I was.
Not only that, but they asked really interesting follow-up questions. They seemed to be genuinely curious. I was even honest about the fact that I'm doing a lot of self-discovery right now, and I don't have a clear plan in my career.
Maybe it was the wedding’s cheerful atmosphere, but I introduced myself with vibrancy, as if I truly knew who I was.
Strangers don’t hold us to past versions of ourselves. They don’t make assumptions. They meet us where we are, probably because they have no other choice.
And having that clean slate? It’s like the perfect playground to test new versions of yourself.
“You're Just Like That”
But when someone knows you in a certain way, it’s hard to change that perception.
At the beginning of this year, I wanted to become less reactive. By that I mean, the type of reactiveness that only hurt me. Like, expecting too much of people who just weren’t capable of meeting me where I was at.
I told a friend this, and they shrugged: “Yeah, but you’re just like that.”
“Just like that” — perhaps the single best way to put you in a box, padlock it tight, and throw away the key.
I remember how much it made my blood boil. How dare they?
But they didn’t mean it in a harsh way, and in fact, they then went on to say that I didn’t even need to change. But in that moment, it felt like I almost had no chance even trying to be different around them.
That’s why a clean slate feels so freeing. Strangers don’t know the “old you.” They don’t have expectations, or a history to measure you against.
It’s probably why people are so excited to start university. Freshers’ week is full of new faces, new spaces, and nobody knowing who you “really” are. You can experiment, explore, even fail a little, and it doesn’t define you. I for one, was kind of unpopular at school, and relished in the opportunity to start anew.
So yeah, I guess i always wondered why I feel freer with strangers like this, and when I did a little research it turned out that Psychology has a name for it.
They call this the difference between our social self and our authentic self. The social self fits in, follows rules, blends into the group. That’s probably me around people I know already, or work environments, or by the time I was in my final year of school. The authentic self shows up when the stakes are low, when expectations are light—and that’s when we feel most like ourselves. Like a random chat with a barista, or a shopkeeper, or the wedding guests.
When I think about what makes me feel most comfortable, it’s the spaces I feel most seen and able to be vulnerable in.
I’ve felt that in writing, too. When I started sharing my experiences on Substack, I invited readers into my world, my thinking, my quirks. And they responded—people shared their own experiences, their vulnerabilities. It felt like a space where authenticity was allowed, even celebrated.
On that Canada trip, I was super energetic and bubbly. It’s funny because although I remember that, I also remember opening up to people there, and getting the same from them in return.
For those two weeks, I was testing a version of me that was confident, curious, and vulnerable all at once. And it actually worked.
Being able to step into spaces where nobody knows the “old” you is kind of liberating. You get to see who you are when no one is watching, no one is judging, and no one is holding the past against you. That’s where the authentic self shines, and it’s exactly what makes us feel most alive.
Is Feeling Like Yourself Just Feeling Like a Child Again?
I wonder if those bus journeys in Canada made me feel like a child again, and if that’s exactly why I felt most like myself.
Because to ‘feel like you’ is hard to describe, right?
But when I think about that time, I remember the pure joy and the lack of self-consciousness. The giggling on the bus, sharing big bags of sweets with my new friends, playing games, chatting away.
I’d probably say we were just being our ‘silly’ selves.
Adulthood makes us self-conscious. We stop playing, messing around. We start being all ‘serious’ and professional.
Sometimes I think we’d be happier if we just had a dance break in the middle of a workday.
Imagine it: suddenly everyone jumps up from their desks, the music is blasting, and we all start boogie-ing.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but surely we could all do with a bit more ‘silly’ in our lives?
I remember when I was a kid and I would go down to the pool on holiday and just make friends. Like literally, go up to them and start talking, ask if they wanted to play. One girl I met when I was about 8 years old, ended up being my pen pal for years.
That’s one of my best childhood memories.
Imagine if we tried that as adults? We walked up to someone in a café and said, “Want to play?” It sounds absurd, but maybe it’s exactly what we need.
But in adulthood, we vet people first. We’re suspicious. And we often don’t put ourselves out there, because we’re scared of rejection.
Since I moved to a new town, I’ve gotten better at meeting people, and just suggesting we go for a coffee. It’s miles away from what I used to be like — terrified they’d reject me in the moment.
And it’s incredibly thrilling, talking to those new people. I find myself opening up and again, being able to surface that vulnerability so quickly.
Freedom To Be Yourself… In Everyday Life
So if freedom can come from safety and newness, how do we create that without fleeing on a solo trip to another country (which is probably unfeasible, for most people)?
I don’t have the answer, but I guess the things that have worked for me are about the people I surround myself with. I feel completely safe and like I can be myself with my husband, the good or the bad days. And many of my close friends.
But I think outside of that, I’m learning that sometimes I’m not myself because I fear judgement, even around people I know. It’s almost as if I make assumptions about the assumptions they’ll make about me. And that’s not always fair.
Because your friends want you to be yourself, at least, hopefully they do.
Maybe we need to ask ourselves:
How do I build those spaces right here, with the people already around me?
But then again, perhaps what we need to also do, is just be brave enough to start conversations with strangers.
Thank you so much for reading!
What do you think? Have you ever had this weird feeling of being totally you around strangers?
I’d love to know!
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Much love, from Imi 🩷
You told them you were a writer? You didn't lie. You are a very good writer. Others don't define you. You do.
Thank you for sharing this adventure and what you learned from it. "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness,' said Mark Twain. Such true words. You can't help but grow on a travel journey to a far away land.