The Exhausting Work of Pretending (And How to Stop)

Ever walked into a room and felt like everyone else got a manual for life that you somehow missed?

Maybe it’s at work, at a dinner party, or—let’s be honest—at church. You look around, and everyone else seems so confident. They’re saying the right things, laughing at the right jokes, and looking totally at ease. Meanwhile, you have that sinking feeling in your gut that whispers, If they knew what a mess I am inside, they wouldn't let me sit here.

That is the ancient ache of imposter syndrome. And guess what? You aren’t the only one feeling it.

Jesus actually told a story about this exact feeling two thousand years ago. It’s a story about two guys who went to pray, and it completely flips the script on what it means to belong.

The "Superstar" and the "Sellout"

In Luke 18, Jesus sets the stage. Two men walk into the temple.

First, there’s the Pharisee. Think of him as the spiritual "Gold Star" student. He’s the guy who volunteers for everything, never misses a service, and definitely flosses every day. On the outside, he is crushing it.

Then, there’s the Tax Collector. In that culture, this guy was the ultimate sellout—a traitor working for the enemy. He’s the person nobody wants to make eye contact with.

So, Mr. Superstar stands up to pray, and it starts off sounding okay: “God, I thank you…”

But if you listen close, he’s not really talking to God. He’s reading God his résumé. "I fast, I tithe, I follow the rules." He’s basically saying, "God, aren't you lucky to have me on the team? At least I'm not a train wreck like that guy over there."

We might not say it out loud, but we’ve all thought it. At least I’m not as messy as them. At least I have my act together. It’s the trap of trying to validate ourselves by looking down on someone else.

Seven Words That Change Everything

Then we look at the tax collector.

He doesn’t march to the front. He stands in the back, totally broken. He can’t even look up toward heaven. He just beats his chest—which was the universal sign for "I am overwhelmed with grief"—and prays seven simple words:

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

No filters. No humble-brags. No comparison. Just gut-level honesty. God, I’m a mess, and I need help.

And here is the plot twist that shocked everyone listening to Jesus: The guy with the résumé didn't go home right with God. The guy with the messy life did.

Why? Because you can’t fill a cup that’s already full of itself. The Pharisee was so full of his own "goodness" there was no room for God. But the tax collector? He knew he was empty, and that created the space for grace to rush in.

You Can Stop Performing Now

Here is the good news: God is not interested in your performance. He’s interested in you.

Belonging doesn’t happen when we prove we’re good enough. It happens when we are brave enough to admit we aren't. When we drop the mask and stop pretending we have it all figured out, two things happen:

We finally connect with God, because we aren't hiding anymore.

We make it safe for the people around us to breathe a sigh of relief and be real, too.

So, how do we actually live this out?

Catch your "Inner Pharisee." Next time you find yourself judging someone else to make yourself feel better, just pause. Take a breath. Remind yourself that we're all just people in need of grace.

Drop the filter in prayer. You don't need "thee's" and "thou's." You can just say, "God, I'm tired," or "God, I feel jealous today." He can handle it. Honesty is the fastest way to get close to God.

Be the safe place. When you talk to people, listen more than you speak. Be the person who admits when things are hard. When you lead with vulnerability, you give others permission to do the same.

The pressure is off, friends. You don't have to earn your seat at the table. You just have to be willing to take a seat.

Let’s Chat: I’d love to hear from you. Is there a specific area of your life—work, parenting, faith—where you feel the most pressure to "perform"? Drop a comment below.