I once stood in line at a coffee truck after my morning yoga session and heard a woman ahead of me declare, “Ugh, I hate fake people.”
Her tone was confident, almost proud.
Yet as the minutes passed she proceeded to bad-mouth a colleague, complain about her partner’s “laziness,” and brag about how adaptable she could be “with any crowd.”
I wondered whether the very qualities she despised were quietly guiding her own behavior.
If you’ve met someone who waves the “I hate fakes” flag, you’ve likely sensed a similar contradiction.
This isn’t about judging those people — it’s about becoming aware of the blind spots that might live inside any of us.
Here’s what’s often hiding underneath.
1. Constant judgment of others
People who rail against “phoniness” tend to keep an internal score-card.
A 2023 study covering more than 250,000 participants linked high narcissistic traits with chronic evaluation of others and low empathy — the perfect ingredients for snap judgments.
Judging feels safer than reflecting, because looking inward risks discovering flaws.
The irony? Harsh outward judgment usually mirrors harsh self-judgment.
And the more someone engages in this kind of habitual judging, the less likely they are to form deep, trusting relationships.
People become tools to measure against, rather than individuals to connect with.
Eventually, that erodes any sense of authentic connection they say they value.
2. Projection of their own insecurities
When someone loudly disowns a trait, they may be pushing away an unrecognized part of themselves.
Research on defensive projection found that poor emotion regulators were far more likely to blame others for their own mistakes.
So the “faker” they condemn could simply be a shadow of their own inauthentic moments.
I’ve caught myself doing this before — criticizing someone for being “attention-seeking” when, deep down, I was the one feeling invisible.
We all have these moments.
The key difference is whether we’re willing to notice them and ask why that particular behavior triggered us so strongly.
3. Chameleon behavior depending on audience
I spent years freelancing in corporate offices.
The loud “anti-fake” coworker was always the first to shift opinions when the director walked in.
Needing approval drives people to morph, yet admitting that need feels vulnerable.
Calling others “fake” distracts from the shape-shifting inside.
Ironically, these folks often believe they’re being “adaptable” or “strategic.”
But what they’re really doing is abandoning parts of themselves to avoid discomfort or rejection.
True authenticity isn’t about being the same in every setting — it’s about staying rooted in your values, no matter the room.
4. Gossip framed as honesty
Negative gossip might look like social glue, but it erodes trust and proactive behavior at work.
I’ve noticed that chronic gossipers insist they’re just “being real.”
If you’re unsure whether a conversation is truth-telling or toxicity, watch for these signs:
- The story is shared without any plan to address the issue directly.
- There’s a subtle invitation to take sides.
- Admiration is saved for the teller; the target rarely receives benefit of the doubt.
Gossip disguised as candor is still gossip.
Sometimes the biggest red flag isn’t what is being said — it’s why it’s being said and to whom.
If the goal isn’t resolution, insight, or support, it may just be disguised hostility.
And the most damaging part is that it’s often rewarded with social attention, which only reinforces the habit.
5. A running victim narrative
“I’m surrounded by fakes” casts the speaker as the lone authentic hero.
That storyline absolves them from examining how they contribute to relational strain.
Mindfulness practice taught me that the victim lens shrinks the possibilities of change.
Stepping back, asking “What am I adding to this dynamic?” reopens agency.
People locked in this narrative often don’t see how their expectations or assumptions feed their disappointment.
They may be setting up unrealistic standards for how others should behave, then feeling betrayed when those standards aren’t met.
Playing the victim keeps the focus outward — which is precisely where growth doesn’t happen.
6. Love-bombing followed by withdrawal
Early praise (“You’re the realest person I know!”) can flip into cold distance when reality sets in.
This pattern offers the quick dopamine hit of intense bonding without the patience genuine connection requires.
As Brené Brown reminds us, “Authenticity is a daily practice.”
Daily, not momentary.
Love-bombers tend to thrive on the initial high of connection but lack the emotional endurance to stay when things get complex.
They mistake chemistry for compatibility and honesty for oversharing.
Eventually, when the other person shows their humanity — flaws and all — the bomb drops.
7. Boundary crossing disguised as “just being real”
Unfiltered comments about your weight, salary, or relationship status are not authenticity; they’re boundary violations.
Real talk honors limits; it doesn’t bulldoze them.
I once had a former friend tell me I wasn’t “really minimalist” because I had more than one yoga mat.
She meant it as a joke, but the underlying tone was critical.
Speaking your mind doesn’t require stomping on someone else’s dignity.
There’s a difference between transparency and tactlessness — and it starts with intention.
8. Competitive one-upmanship
Declaring hatred for fakeness positions the speaker as morally superior.
From that pedestal they can top any story or achievement.
Competition masquerades as integrity, yet it leaves little space for mutual growth.
This mindset can show up in subtle ways — dismissing others’ success, interrupting vulnerability with advice, or bragging under the guise of “just sharing.”
Over time, it becomes exhausting to be around someone who needs to win even in emotional conversations.
What they often call “realness” is just another attempt to stay one step ahead.
9. Discomfort with genuine vulnerability
Authentic sharing demands sitting with someone else’s messy truth.
The anti-fake crusader often changes the subject, offers quick fixes, or jokes away emotion.
Avoidance shields them from confronting their own tender spots.
Being vulnerable means releasing control of how you’re perceived — and for many, that’s terrifying.
So instead, they criticize others for “being dramatic” or “too much.”
But behind every deflection is usually fear — fear of being seen, misunderstood, or rejected.
Final thoughts
Before we finish, here’s a question worth sitting with during your next meditation:
When you catch yourself labeling someone as fake, what uncomfortable feeling inside you might need attention?
Naming that feeling — without judgment — is a small act of courage that keeps authenticity alive.
And if you notice some of these patterns in yourself, don’t panic.
Awareness isn’t punishment — it’s the doorway to something better.
