How Are You Really? (And Why We're All Afraid to Answer)
I've been dancing around truth lately—not intentionally, but in that way we do when life gets so full that we forget to check in with ourselves. Then a simple journaling prompt that left me not knowing what to say: "How are you really?"
Four words that felt like a dare.
As I shared with you recently, I have been making my way through Suleika Jaouad's 100 Day Practice Project, using her Book of Alchemy as my guide. Each day brings a new writer's essay and prompt—provocative, stirring, and so beautiful. But this particular question? It paralyzed me.
Because how am I, really? On any given Tuesday, I am everything and nothing, holding it all together and feeling overwhelmed, confident and questioning, clear and confused.
Here's what I mean: I am Laura the consultant, partnering with corporate executives and their teams through InspireCorps as they navigate disruption and this incredibly uncomfortable time. I bring clarity to chaos, strategy to uncertainty. I'm good at it—really good—and I love the work. Yet, it is hard.
I'm also Laura the founder of Unfolding, holding sacred space for women who are tired of living someone else's version of success. I guide them toward alignment, toward lives that feel joy filled, rewarding and powerful. This work feeds my soul, and has never been needed more.
I'm Laura the partner, actively building something beautiful and complex with someone I adore—learning daily that intimacy requires both courage and surrender.
Laura the mother of two extraordinary young men who taught me that love means showing up without needing to be needed, cheering from the sidelines of lives I helped launch but don't get to direct.
Laura the daughter, watching my parents age with grace while I navigate the tender reality of finite time and infinite love.
Laura the friend, the adventurer, the woman who needs mountains and quiet mornings and deep, soulful conversations.
Laura the introvert who loves to be with others but gets quickly overstimulated; and who needs a lot of alone time. .
So when someone asks "How are you really?" which Laura should answer?
Here's the truth we don't say enough: We edit ourselves constantly. We curate our responses, even to people who love us, because we've learned that realness can make people uncomfortable. That showing up fully—with all our contradictions, our complexity, our beautiful mess—is somehow too much.
We've been taught to pick a lane, be consistent, present a coherent narrative. But what if our power lives precisely in our multitudes? What if the very thing we're hiding is the thing the world needs most, and that is the most beautiful?
I spent twenty minutes staring at that journal page before I could write a single word. Not because I didn't know how I was, but because I knew too well—and honoring all of it felt a bit overwhelming.
I am tired and energized. Confident and uncertain. Holding space for everyone while continuing to hold space for myself. I am succeeding wildly in some areas while fumbling through others. I am grateful and grieving, powerful and vulnerable, clear about some things and completely lost about others.
I am human. Beautifully, messily, completely human.
And I suspect you are too.
What would change if we stopped performing our answers to "How are you really?" What if we let ourselves be seen in our full complexity—not despite our contradictions, but because of them?
Here's what I'm learning: Our depth isn't a liability. Our multitudes aren't confused. They're integrated. They're the very thing that makes us unique, authentic, real.
So I'm giving myself—and you—permission. Permission to be everything and nothing on the same Tuesday. Permission to hold multiple truths simultaneously. Permission to answer "How are you really?" with the fullness and honesty of who we are, not just the part that's convenient or comprehensible.
Because the women who change the world aren't the ones who have it all figured out. They're the ones brave enough to show up anyway, with their questions and their clarity, their strength and their tenderness, their truth and their contradictions.
They're the ones who understand that alignment isn't about perfection—it's about integration. It's about honoring all the parts of who we are and letting them shape how we move through the world.
So how am I, really? I'm all of it. And that feels like exactly enough.
How are you, really? And what would happen if you let yourself answer fully?
If this resonates with you—if you're tired of editing yourself and ready to explore what full authenticity looks like—I'd love to connect on LinkedIn. Because the most powerful thing we can do is give each other permission to be real.
