We hear a lot about both authenticity and growth in today’s culture. I’ve written on both before, and for good reason: they’re central to our quest for meaning in modern life. What’s less often discussed, however, is the way these ideals can seem at odds with one another—and how we might navigate that tension.
Authenticity is typically understood as being true to ourselves—honoring our inner voice even when the world pressures us otherwise. Growth, by contrast, implies transcending ourselves—moving beyond or upgrading the current version of who we are. In short, authenticity preserves “what is,” while growth reaches for “what could be.” Philosophers have framed this as the contrast between being and becoming. Even language captures the difference: verbs of being (“is,” “am,” “was”) feel static and self-defining, whereas action verbs (“run,” “grow,” “change”) suggest motion and transformation.
When it comes to personality type, authenticity often means embracing our type’s signature strengths—those associated with the dominant and auxiliary functions. For an INFP, for instance, this might involve living in accord with the values of Introverted Feeling (Fi) while exploring ideas through Extraverted Intuition (Ne).
In some ways, life might be simpler if we could stop there—if we could find lasting contentment within our dominant functions. But contentment isn’t exactly our species’ strong suit. Instead, we grow restless and curious about what lies beyond the familiar terrain of the dominant function.
The Pull of the Inferior Function
Sooner or later, many of us feel an inexplicable pull toward our inferior function—the least developed, most mysterious aspect of our psyche. A dominant Thinker (T) may become fascinated by the world of people and Feeling (F); a dominant Intuitive (N) might immerse herself in Sensory (S) experience—painting, cooking, dancing. Though it’s difficult to understand, let alone gain mastery over, our inferior function, something about it feels vital, even redemptive. As Thomas King observed:
The time comes when the individual feels life is empty; something is missing… At this point the individual feels called to make a difficult search for the rejected (i.e., inferior) function. The individual sets out on a difficult and unfamiliar journey to locate the missing function.
The call of the inferior function adds complexity as well as complications to our psychological life. In our dominant mode, we feel competent, but at some point grow bored or restless; in the inferior mode, we feel alive, but somewhat clumsy or inadequate. Thus emerges a core paradox: What we do best doesn’t always feel most meaningful, while what feels most meaningful doesn’t always come naturally.
When Authenticity & Growth Diverge
Authenticity, viewed through the lens of type, often centers on the dominant function—our most natural mode of being. Growth, on the other hand, involves venturing beyond it and developing new sides of ourselves. In many cases, growth feels quite authentic, suggesting that these ideals often overlap. As King notes, our drive to expand isn’t imposed on us from the outside, but arises from an inner prompting—an expression of the self’s own evolution.
Still, authenticity and growth aren’t always synonymous. Imagine an Introvert who decides to adopt a more Extraverted lifestyle to break out of a rut. At first, this change might feel energizing and true to her deeper self. But over time, as the novelty fades, she might begin to feel off-balance or uncertain—”Who am I now? Is this really me?”
Such moments capture a central Jungian dilemma: the tension between the dominant and inferior functions. There are times when we grow weary of the dominant function and find ourselves longing for fresh energy, something to renew and reinvigorate us. This sense of dissatisfaction is a critical precursor to growth; it’s what prompts us to turn our gaze in a different direction. The inferior offers us renewal, but because it’s in many ways the opposite of the dominant function, it can muddle our sense of identity. Consequently, we often end up oscillating between them—seeking freshness in one, familiarity in the other.
Beyond the Either-Or
While this oscillation has its place, it can leave us feeling fragmented, as though we’re endlessly bouncing between selves. A key part of growth, then, involves finding ways for these opposites to coexist in creative dialogue rather than isolation or conflict. Growth is not merely exploration, but also integration—discovering a unifying thread that weaves our experiences into a coherent whole.
This integration emerges gradually, through repeated cycles of expansion and return. Each time we venture into the territory of the inferior function and then circle back to the dominant, we bring something new with us. The dominant becomes enriched; the inferior becomes less foreign. Over time, what once felt like opposing forces begin to inform and enhance one another.
In the end, authenticity calls us back to center—to our dominant function, our home base. Growth beckons us outward—to the unfamiliar and the unfinished. We need both. Too much authenticity and we stagnate; too much growth and we lose ourselves. The art lies in the rhythm—expanding and returning, venturing and re-centering—each cycle bringing a more nuanced understanding of who we are.
Whatever emerges from this ongoing reconciliation—this lived dialogue between being and becoming—forms the evolving ground of our authenticity.
