Stop Hiding Who You Really Are: Be Authentic W/ Corey Poirier
Chris Do and speaker Corey Poirier reveal why true authenticity, not a filtered persona, is the most powerful asset for influence and connection.
Chris Do
Founder, The Futur™ · July 23, 2024
The Authenticity Imperative
Two words dominate the modern conversation around influence: personal brand and authenticity. They are often used together, but they live in a state of constant tension. One suggests a curated image, the other a raw reality. The pressure to build a polished brand often leads experts, speakers, and entrepreneurs to present a filtered version of themselves, believing it is the only path to credibility and success. But what if that is the very thing holding them back?
In a candid conversation with Chris Do, five-time TEDx speaker and author Corey Poirier argues that the most potent force in communication is not perfection, but its opposite. Poirier’s own journey is a testament to this idea. “I like to call it these days Chris, my origin story,” he says. It is a story that defies the typical expert narrative.
Poirier grew up in a small Canadian town, raised by a single mother, and barely graduated from high school. He didn't read his first book until age 27. The first two were Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends & Influence People and Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich. He admits he didn’t even know the difference between fiction and non-fiction, a fact that once cost him a second date.
“I certainly wasn't voted likely to succeed,” Poirier states. His mission now is to help others who started where he did, to amplify their message without the mentors he never had. His path wasn't academic. It was forged in the trenches of door-to-door photocopier sales, a job he took to learn the art of persuasion, much like Rich Dad Poor Dad author Robert Kiyosaki.
Even there, success was not immediate. Poirier operated under a constant 30-day probation called produce or perish, an agreement that meant he could be fired without notice at any time. It took nearly a year before his job was secure. His entry into public speaking was just as unlikely: he was tricked into performing stand-up comedy one night.
This is not the polished backstory of a guru. It is the foundation of a career built on embracing imperfection. It is the core of Poirier’s central thesis: stop hiding who you really are.
The Architecture of Connection
For those who want to command a stage, the first piece of advice is a counterintuitive directive: “Stop trying to become the next Tony Robbins.”
Poirier explains the fundamental error most aspiring speakers make. “When we ask people when they first start working with me, hey what's your goal, there's always some form of ‘I want to be the next Lisa Nichols, I want to be the next Brené Brown,’” he says. “And I'm like, why? Tony went out to become the first Tony Robbins. Lisa went out to become the first Lisa. You need to go out to become the first Bob.”
Emulating what great speakers do well is a strategy. Trying to become them is a path to failure. This is about building on your own authentic foundation, not adopting someone else's. From there, tactical skill becomes critical. Poirier outlined several non-negotiable rules for anyone who wants to not just speak, but connect.
First, rethink your presentation slides. Poirier points to the minimalist genius of Steve Jobs’s product launches. “At most on his slides, he would have a picture of the product,” he recalls. This was a revelation. Most speakers use slides as a crutch, filling them with bullet points and text. This is a mistake. The slides should be a visual trigger, not a teleprompter.
“I recognize that it's my story, so I don't need all these words to help me memorize,” Poirier explains. A single image of him performing stand-up is all he needs to launch into his origin story. The slides become reinforcement, not the main event. This approach also makes the presentation unique; the slides are meaningless without the speaker's narrative.
Second, every story needs a structure that resonates with the human psyche. Every talk should have a hero and a villain. This doesn’t mean literal characters. If you conquered an illness, the disease can be the villain. A person who gave you hope, or the concept of hope itself, can be the hero. “As humans, we love having things we can throw rocks at, the villain, and we love having things or people that we can cheer for, the hero.”
Third, respect the cognitive limits of your audience. This is The Rule of Three. A talk should never have more than three takeaways. For shorter formats like a TEDx talk, one is often enough. Poirier recounts a brilliant summary of this principle: “There's only four numbers in the world... one, two, three, and far too many.”
Once you get beyond three key points, you have lost your audience. This principle is baked into our culture, from the three-act structure of plays and movies to an innate psychological preference. Your talk should be organized around a few powerful, memorable pillars.
Slaying the Attention Span Dragon
You can have the most brilliant content in the world, but if the audience is bored, you have failed. This leads to Poirier’s most crucial distinction: “Content is king, and I agree with that. But what I would add to that is emotional connection is Queen. And in my experience, the queen rules the castle far more often than the king.”
A charismatic speaker delivering a mediocre talk will be remembered more fondly than a brilliant speaker who fails to engage. The question then becomes, how do you create that connection? It requires a toolbox of engagement strategies designed for the modern, distraction-prone mind.
The first tool is provocation. You can’t just talk at people; you must pull them into the experience. Poirier does this by challenging a universally held belief. He asks for a show of hands: “We all know it takes 21 days to create a habit, right?” Most hands go up. Then comes the turn. “What if I was to blow your mind and show you that it's not true?”
He then reveals the truth, citing the research from books like The One Thing, which shows the actual number is closer to 66 days. The creator of the 21-day idea was misquoted. By deconstructing a piece of common wisdom, Poirier achieves two things: he grabs the audience’s attention and establishes his credibility as someone who can teach them something new. “If that's not true,” he posits, “what else can I teach you that you've always believed to be true isn't true?” This approach is far more effective than just listing facts, a strategy explored in The Art of Listening & Communication.
The second tool is direct, intentional eye contact. It’s a cliché because it’s true. Poirier shares two powerful anecdotes to illustrate this. He recalls Chris Anderson, the head of TED, asking Brené Brown how she connected so deeply during her famous talk on vulnerability. Her answer was simple: she pictured the entire audience as the one person in her life who needed to hear that message the most. She spoke to them with the love and intention she felt for that single person.
He also shares a story from Tom Ziggler about his legendary father, Zig Ziggler. After a talk, a psychologist told Zig he was the most loved speaker on the lineup for two reasons. First, “the way you looked in our eyes felt like you truly cared about our result.” To do this, you have to genuinely care, which means speaking on topics you are truly passionate about.
The second reason was more profound. The psychologist observed, “You change up what you're doing every seven minutes.” This was the late 1970s, and the average time between TV commercials was seven minutes. Zig Ziggler, without knowing it, was fighting for the audience’s attention by shifting his energy, using a prop, or telling a new story, never letting them get bored and “go to commercial break in their head.”
Poirier’s update is stark. “Today we probably have two minutes. We don't have seven minutes anymore.” The modern speaker must be a master of variation, constantly mixing up their delivery to keep the audience locked in.
The Unfiltered Persona
Speaking from the stage is one thing. Living your message is another. The pressure to project success has created what Poirier calls a filtered world, and his antidote is simple: the unfiltered life.
“In a world where I feel everything is filtered, being authentic to me is being unfiltered,” he declares. To him, this means speaking your truth, especially when it’s hard. He sees the opposite everywhere: coaches on social media posing next to Cadillacs they don’t own to sell a dream of wealth they haven’t achieved.
“I truly have clients that are pitching, ‘Let me show you how to make seven figures,’ when they've never made seven figures,” Poirier reveals. “To me, that's the opposite of authenticity.” This house of cards eventually collapses. The truth always comes out.
Why do people do it? The quick answer is money. They believe fabricating a larger-than-life persona is the fastest way to attract clients who want a shortcut to success. They are afraid that showing their real life, their struggles, and their uncertainties will make them seem less credible. Poirier argues the opposite is true.
He believes vulnerability builds trust. “I think you're more creditable when a person says, ‘They get it. It happens to them too. They struggle too,’” he says. This is especially true of the most successful people he’s interviewed.
This is a core tenet for anyone building an authentic personal brand. Poirier finds that hyper-successful individuals are often the most authentic because they have nothing left to prove. Mark Victor Hansen, co-creator of the 600-million-selling Chicken Soup for the Soul series, tells prospective authors, “If you want to publish a book with me but you're going to sell your car to do it or remortgage your house... I'm not your guy.” This integrity makes people want to work with him more, not less.
So where is the line? Chris Do challenges this, drawing a parallel to a young real estate agent leasing a nice car to project success. Is that so different? Poirier’s distinction is subtle but crucial. It’s about representation versus fabrication.
“I do think to some degree you have to fake it till you make it,” Poirier concedes, but with a critical caveat. The authenticity lies in what you claim. Are you telling people you have done something you haven't, or are you simply portraying yourself as capable and successful on your way to achieving it? The former is a lie. The latter is positioning.
The most powerful strategy, however, is to avoid this dilemma altogether. Poirier’s advice is to teach from page two. “If you're on page one, stop trying to teach the whole book,” he advises. If you have successfully built a six-figure business, you are uniquely qualified to teach others how to do exactly that. Trying to teach the seven-figure playbook you haven't lived is not just inauthentic; it’s a disservice to the massive audience that would benefit from your actual expertise.
Case Studies in Realness
Over his career, Poirier has interviewed more than 5,000 people, from global icons to unsung heroes. When asked who surprised him most with their authenticity, his examples are telling. They are people who have achieved monumental success not by hiding their flaws, but by leading with them.
His first example is Richard Paul Evans, the 46-time New York Times bestselling author of The Christmas Box and dozens of other novels. At a writer’s retreat, Evans didn’t open with his triumphs. He opened with his struggles. “The first thing he told us about... was about how he has Tourette's and how he's had Tourette's his whole life,” Poirier recalls. Evans spoke openly about his difficult upbringing and his continued challenges, even posting on Facebook about his weekly struggles.
This vulnerability had a profound effect. “You now feel like a part of this family,” Poirier says. “You feel like you know this writer.” This deep authenticity, far from diminishing his authority, created a powerful, unbreakable bond with his audience.
Poirier offers other examples of this surprising realness:
- Mark Victor Hansen: The Chicken Soup for the Soul co-creator is unapologetically himself, sharing his unabashed views on business and politics, areas many influencers avoid. He embodies the idea of “this is who I am, take me or leave me.”
- Tommy Chong: The legendary comedian is simply, authentically Tommy. At 84, he shows up with two different shoes, gets lost in an alley on his way to an interview, and instantly connects with people on a human level. His focus is on his craft and its effect on people, not on selling himself.
- Robin Sharma: The author of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari shares parts of his life most people would keep private. Like Evans, his willingness to be vulnerable creates a deeper connection.
The common thread is that these individuals, who have reached the highest echelons of success, are Radically authentic. Richard Paul Evans became a bestselling author as a self-published writer, a nearly impossible feat. Tommy Chong created a comedy legacy that is singular. Mark Victor Hansen sold over 600 million books. Their success is a direct contradiction to the idea that you must project an image of flawless perfection.
The Power of Page Two
The obvious counterargument is that it is easy to be authentic once you have sold 600 million books or written 46 bestsellers. What about the person still struggling, the entrepreneur who hasn’t “made it” yet? How can they be vulnerable without looking like a failure? This is the central struggle for anyone trying to build a career, as Chris Do points out in his own Personal Branding Masterclass.
This is where the idea of teaching from page two becomes more than a strategy; it becomes a philosophy. You do not need to have finished the book to help someone who is still on page one. Your current position, no matter how modest it may seem to you, is an aspirational goal for someone else.
The person who has just landed their first three clients is a hero to the person struggling to find their first one. The speaker who just got their first paid gig is an expert to the person terrified of stepping on stage. Authenticity is not about broadcasting your failures; it is about honestly sharing the journey from your current vantage point.
The pressure to perform, to filter, to present a life devoid of struggle is immense. It is driven by the mistaken belief that credibility is born from an absence of flaws. The reality is the opposite.
Credibility is born from resonance. It comes from the moment an audience member or client says, “They understand my problem because they have lived it.” That connection cannot be faked.
Stop trying to be the finished product. Your power is right where you are. Be the guide for the person one step behind you. That is not just authentic. It is valuable.
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“In a world where I feel everything is filtered, being authentic to me is being unfiltered.”
— Chris Do
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