“Why do you do that?” a friend asked.

The truth is I was afraid of what people would think of me. I didn’t want to be judged and stereotyped. So I hid it.

I don’t think I’m alone in this fear. As young people, especially those living a counter-cultural life of faith, we fear what other people think of us.

We pick and choose what we want to show others. They’ll like my sense of humour but they won’t like my passion for ending abortion. I can say I’m a fan of The Lumineers, but I can’t say I’m a fan of the Pope. We end up presenting a false version of ourselves based on what others will approve of.

So what’s the problem? False versions are watered down, less awesome versions of the real thing. Think fake plants, Beatles’ cover bands and Google Plus.

“While he looks for human applause, he is deprived of true virtues,” Thomas à Kempis tells us in The Imitation of Christ.

We could be people of courage, humility, love and freedom, but instead we search for a few measly glances of approval.

Now I’m not suggesting anyone adopt a reckless “I don’t care what anybody thinks of me” attitude. We should not become people who utter rude comments or constantly state their opinion with no regard for the feelings of others. We need to be sensitive to others. We should not, however, behave for the purpose of appearing better in the eyes of others. After all, Jesus never sought glory from humans. We are told in the Gospel of John, “His own people did not accept Him.” He did not change who He was to please them. He desired only to do the will of His Father. He wanted to love people more than He wanted to be loved by them.

What right have I to seek people’s approval when Jesus — the incarnation of all that is good, true and beautiful — had none? He, who deserves all love, was given so little. Yet I, who deserve so little, seek so much.

But it is so difficult to get out of this cycle. We are paralyzed by the fear of what others will think of who we really are. Perhaps it’s because deep down, we think there’s something in us that we need to be ashamed of.

The only remedy for this fear is love. For the gaze of love tells us we need not be ashamed. The ultimate gaze of love comes from Jesus, for He knows us more completely than anyone else can.

He is “acquainted with all of our ways” (Psalm 139) and He loves us totally. He, who created the Heavens and the Earth, thinks you — the real you — is beautiful. With that knowledge, how can we be anyone but ourselves? How can we present counterfeit versions, when He is in love with the original?

So let us stand without fear, “secure in the Lord” (Psalm 112).

(Brown, 20, is a third-year journalism student at Carleton University in Ottawa.)