After rediscovering my humanity, I thought I'd solved the problem. I was having useless conversations, telling pointless stories, watching birds build nests.
But I was still exhausted.
I remember driving back to my hotel from dinner with friends two years ago, people I genuinely liked who I'd met up with at a marketing conference. We'd had a great time. Good food, good laughs, good conversation.
So why did I feel like I'd just performed a three-hour one-man show?
That's when it hit me. I wasn't tired from the dinner. I was tired from being "Conference Dinner Damien," the version of myself I thought they wanted to see.
I'd spent the entire evening monitoring my words, adjusting my energy, being helpful but not too helpful, funny but not too intense. I was shape-shifting through my own life.
That hotel room revelation changed everything about how I understood energy.
A Hard Truth
The energy problem wasn't other people draining me. It was me draining myself by being whoever I thought each situation required.
I recall having different operating systems for every relationship: "Expert Damien" with clients, "Successful Damien" with conference friends, "Responsible Damien" with family, "Charming Damien" with strangers.
Switching between them was exhausting.
But here's the part that really messed me up: I'd become addicted to being needed. Being the guy with answers felt good. Being indispensable felt safe. But it was killing me.
Every conversation had become a performance where I had to prove my worth instead of just... existing.
Today's Shift
What I Discovered About Energy:
1. The Shape-Shifting Tax
I started tracking when I felt most like myself versus when I felt like I was performing.
I remember camping with my college buddies: Completely myself, energized for weeks after.
That conference networking dinner: Performed for two hours, needed a day to recover.
Drinks with my friend Dave: Started authentic, shifted to "advisor mode" when he mentioned a problem, left feeling drained.
The pattern became clear. The more I shape-shifted, the more exhausted I became. The more I stayed myself, the more energy I had.
2. The Addiction to Being Needed
This was the hardest one to admit. I realized I was addicted to being the guy people came to for help. It felt good to be needed, but it was a drug that required bigger and bigger hits.
I started noticing when I was fishing for problems to solve. When I was steering conversations toward areas where I could be helpful. When I was volunteering advice nobody asked for.
Being needed felt like love, but it was actually just transaction. And transactions, even good ones, are exhausting.
3. The Authenticity Experiment
I decided to start showing up as just... me. Same energy, same personality, same level of helpfulness (or lack thereof) in every situation.
Some relationships got deeper. Others naturally faded. Both were okay.
The conference dinners where I couldn't be myself? I started declining. Not because those people were bad, but because the fit wasn't right for any of us.
The friends who only reached out when they needed something? I started being honest: "I care about you, but I'm not in advisor mode today. Can we just hang out?"
Most of them were relieved. They wanted a friend, not a consultant, too.
What's Next
Tomorrow: The Relationship Redesign - Now that we know the difference between authentic connection and performance, we'll talk about how to restructure relationships without losing the people who matter.
Bottom Line
That conference dinner taught me something crucial: being liked for who you pretend to be is lonelier than being disliked for who you actually are.
Energy isn't just about avoiding draining people. It's about stopping the exhausting habit of being different versions of yourself for different audiences.
Your authenticity is your energy source. Guard it like your life depends on it... because it does.
— Damien
P.S. Had dinner with those same conference friends last month. Showed up as just me... no performance, no shape-shifting. We had the best conversation we've ever had. Turns out they were tired of performing too.
