Authenticity
Know Thyself, Be Thyself
About a week ago, I excitedly told my guardian that I was building a house in the village, right next to my father’s house, which I’m also renovating. The decision to take on these projects was sudden, but they’re deeply emotional for me, a part of my journey toward finding my purpose in life. Since early last year, I’ve felt a profound urge to connect with something more meaningful, and as I’ve grown closer to my father’s story—whom I’ve never met except through photos, as he passed away when I was just one—I’ve felt an intense desire to honor his legacy. He was a great man, and I want the world to know his name and his works, through me.
When I shared the idea of building the house with my guardian, she was happy for me, but one thing stood out in her response: “I hope this isn’t going to be too esoteric and eccentric.” I showed her the design, and she laughed because her guess had been spot on. I’m a fan of steel, wood, and concrete, with as little concrete as possible. The design, quite unconventional for Ugandan architecture, embodies much of this vision.
Why did she guess correctly, even before seeing the design? In my family, I’ve become known as the resident purveyor of eccentric and esoteric ideas. A new diet or exercise fad? Count me in. Hopping from one startup idea to another? I’m first in line. Moving from city to city? That’s me. And I don’t keep quiet about it. I often spam my family WhatsApp group with the latest ideas they should experiment with. At this point, I’d surprise myself and my entire family if I did something “normal” in a “normal” way.
This reaction from my guardian made me reflect on who I really am. What’s authentically me? What defines who I am, and what doesn’t?
As I asked myself this question, I found myself focusing on writing—one of the things I love doing, and a form of expression that feels most authentic to me. I’ve been writing actively for almost 10 years now, and over time, I’ve come to understand myself better through my writing.
About a month ago, while having lunch, a friend walked into the restaurant. I had just published articles on values and compound employees, and he expressed how connected he felt after reading the article on values. But, adding that he could have not been as vulnerable as i was This is feedback i have received from many friends that read it and other articles of mine.
This friend of mine went on to also share a desire to write but wasn’t sure where to start or how to stand out. I offered a few tips, as it happened I’d been pondering an article about how to leverage modern tools for writing—tools like ChatGPT, which I use more than people might realise. The idea was to show that writing becomes easier once you understand why the world needs another writer, and why that writer should be you.
Some of my favourite writers are Sam Altman and Paul Graham. Sam has a remarkable ability to condense an entire thought into a single word—finding words that disrupt in subtle, profound ways. Paul, on the other hand, excels at explaining complex ideas using the simplest words, making them accessible even to a child.
Since last year, whenever I write, I run my articles through ChatGPT (including this one), adjusting the tone based on the intended audience. Depending on the audience, I might ask the tool to adjust the tone to align with Sam’s or Paul’s style. This has been a game-changer and has helped me tremendously. Five years ago, it would take me days to write an article. Now, it takes me less than four hours per article, and on my good days, I can churn out up to four articles.
My poor attention to detail used to mean I needed all that time to review, but even then, mistakes—grammatical and otherwise—were prevalent. Now, with ChatGPT, I can iron out my weaknesses and fine-tune the tone when necessary.
But here’s where things get interesting. As I’ve relied on ChatGPT to address my weaknesses and incorporate others’ writing styles, I’ve noticed something important: gaps that don’t resonate with me because they don’t reflect who I am. This is because my writing looks inward. I view my blog as a diary. I’m not trying to impress anyone; I’m documenting my experiences, thoughts, and plans. Sam and Paul, however, write with the intent to teach something.
My language is often brutalistic. I frequently use words like fix, shoot, kill, destroy, morbid, terribly, battle, war, suffering, death, and pain. These words are rarely found in Sam or Paul’s writing. That’s why, whenever I ask ChatGPT to adjust my tone to theirs, those words are removed or toned down. But over time, I’ve decided to keep them. They are part of who I am. They are my authentic voice as a writer.
I’m also fond of metaphors, analogies, and euphemisms, most of which are tied to the environment I find myself in. I use language you might find in venture capital, technology, science, and investment. My understanding of the world is multidisciplinary.
All of this, in aggregate, combines to form my authentic voice as a writer. And that, I believe, makes it stand out—because it’s rare to find someone who writes like this.
Writing, I told my friend, is about finding that intersection that the world can’t quite deliver. If you rely too much on tools like ChatGPT, or mimic other writers, you’ll end up sounding like someone else. That’s not good for you or the people you’re trying to connect with. They’ll sense the fakeness.
If you follow my writing, it’s like stripping myself bare and walking down a parade naked while being streamed on global TV. It’s embarrassing, but that’s why I do it. How many people in the world are willing to lay themselves bare, to expose their flaws publicly?
Even when I borrow the writing styles of Sam Altman and Paul Graham, the uniqueness lies in the fact that I’m using my personal experiences, thoughts, and ambitions, which are uniquely mine. I also rely on a unique set of vocabulary that’s authentically mine.
Sam and Paul tend to write about what they’ve observed in the past, passing on lessons to others who are looking to walk a similar path. I, on the other hand, am documenting my journey as it unfolds—a rare approach. Many people aren’t willing to do this because it exposes you. What if you fail after proclaiming something? What if you change your mind about something you said you’d do? Yet, I generously document both my successes and failures in real-time, unpolished, for the world to learn from, laugh at, or applaud.
That’s what I told my friend. It’s not enough just to want to write. Why should someone choose your blog over the thousands of others they come across every day? The answer often lies in authenticity. Who are you? Can you be that person? And the more embarrassing your authentic self is, the more you should embrace it and share it with the world. Humans seek connection but can sense fakeness from miles away—and they’ll shun it.
If you’re unsure who you are, look inward or to those around you. What do people complain about or praise you for? My guardian, for instance, guessed correctly that I’m fond of exotic and esoteric ideas. My family and people around me also know I tend to overshare—that’s part of who I am. It comes naturally to me to tell you what’s going on in my life, what i intend to do and so on. Most times, i may not act on the things i say, but its who i am.
So, if I overshare, why not turn that trait into an advantage? Why not embrace it as my natural circle of competence?
If you’ve ever wondered why “Driven” should exist, it’s because, after I’ve borrowed 95% of vocabulary, writing style, and grammar from people like Sam and Paul, the remaining 5% is something you won’t find anywhere else. Not from Sam Altman, Paul Graham, or Nietzsche. You’ll only find it here—because I’m laying myself bare for the world, sharing a story that’s deeply authentic and irreplicable. And that is a rare commodity.