The Masks We All Wear

The masks we wear. The way we show our faces to the world is key to our survival at times. We often use them as something to hide behind when we need to.

My mask became my truth, my only face. All the while I hid my face underneath, all the pain etched onto it. The mask became my truth, protecting me from everyone, including me.

There was a time when the mask was who I was. I used the mask to pretend that I was capable, in control, nothing bothering me. Nothing could be further from the truth.

There was a realisation that I no longer knew who I was without it. That removing it was going to cause a world of pain to spill out. I was unprepared to accept that, unsure of what would come out.

The time came when the mask no longer worked. Reality came knocking in the form of a breakdown. I could no longer hide the tsunami of feelings inside.

Removing it was not an option until it became the only option. Therapy laid everything bare before me. The mask no longer fit. The stark realisation was that the very thing I thought was helping hurt me more. Everyone wanted the confident, capable person they knew. What they encountered was a wall of uncertainty. A person who no longer knew who they were or who they could be.

Wearing a mask was no longer serving a purpose for me. I had to learn how to live without it. Be happy with the complicated human being underneath. Embrace feelings I never wanted but needed to experience.

Therapy set me free, validated the feelings, made me see vulnerability was not a weakness. Instead of reaching for the mask I now have to lean in, encourage the feelings. Trusting that being vulnerable was where the real strength came from.

I thought my mask protected me. The truth: it chained me. Keeping me anchored to my past, unable to move on. The experience of pain over and over, fighting the undeniable truth. Removing it enabled me to face my pain, look at it from a new perspective.

Sometimes I still reach for the mask on days I don’t want to deal with myself. Sometimes it feels easier to pretend rather than live in the reality of my experiences. I know that’s not the right call. Old habits die hard.

All I can do is make myself a promise. Keep reminding myself that I am enough. Every time I do that, instead of checking out, the mask gets smaller. That’s all any of us can ask.