I adopt many different voices in my day-to-day life. The way I speak to old buddies is different from how I speak to colleagues, just like I speak differently to my nephews than I do to my grandmother-in-law. None of these speaking styles are inherently phony, they each reflect different aspects of my personality.

This used to bother me considerably. I would obsess over the differences between each, wondering if one were more real than the others. Questioning if I lacked authenticity or was hiding my natural voice.

I haven’t gone quite so far to be that annoying person who just says whatever they want with the justification of “telling it like it is,” but I strive for authenticity in my interactions with other people.

I’m admittedly self-conscious about shifting into manufactured mannerisms because it drives me crazy when I notice it in other people.

This was especially true with my mother. Long before caller ID came out, I could always tell who was on the other end of a phone call just by listening to how Mom spoke: deferentially to her family, cautiously with authority figures, conspiratorially with her close friends, and with forced familiarity when there was something she was trying to get.

It came as a shock to me when I heard her phone voice in my classroom during a parent-teacher conference. Mom became much more animated and deliberate in the way she spoke – like we were suddenly putting on a play. I noted her nervous laugh and predictable attempts at non-controversial humor.

It felt manufactured for the purpose of trying to make a good impression. Then, I noticed the same pattern in myself. Mimicry in action.

I first noticed this in myself as a young boy swimming with a group of Australians in a hotel pool. My brother told me to stop making fun of their accent and I had no idea what he was talking about – and neither did they. Just as subtly as the accent had slipped into my mouth, it also slipped into their ears.

This isn’t entirely uncommon. My wife Jenny shifts accents sometimes. It only takes one phone call home before her southern twang starts slipping itself back in.

Neither of us tends to notice. Once while shoe-shopping, a cashier asked us if we were from England. We thought she was crazy until leaving when we realized we had spent the past two days binge-watching Downton Abbey and then worried we were the crazy ones. Had we been speaking with English accents all day long? Not properly.

On further reflection, I realized this phenomenon wasn’t unique to me and wasn’t limited to accents. Now I see it everywhere, even if most people aren’t willing to acknowledge it.

Examples include the middle manager who barks aggressively down the ladder but is quick to submit to anyone higher on the chain. The foul-mouthed friend trying to charm authority figures in one breath while mocking his peers with the next. The depressed co-worker offering chipper greetings to her customers.

The Internet is full of theories on this. Some call it unintentional mimicry while others call it mirroring. Some praise it as a rapport-building exercise and others say it shows an abundance of empathy. Whatever you call it – it’s weird – and something I try to avoid with one exception: when I’m trying to get free stuff.

Rather than run from this odd and mostly unintentional character quirk, I now lean into it – especially when I’m on the phone with a customer service representative.

I don’t just change my voice to mimic a customer service rep, I change my entire persona. I’ve long since learned two important truths: the operator can always do something to get you a better deal, and people respond favorably to other people that are just like themselves.

The first time this worked for me was accidental. Halfway through a conversation with my cable company’s representative – a lovely woman from the midwest – I was surprised to find myself responding to her best offer with, “Oh golly,” a phrase I’d never before uttered and probably never will again. By the end of the call, I was drawing out my vowels and responding to everything with midwestern-style unwarranted enthusiasm.

I also had a drastically lower bill and better cable package. That’s the kind of sound that’s worth repeating.

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