The masks we wear were formed before we can even remember; they are a manifestation of the walls we started creating the first time we were ever hurt. By the third time, and definitely by a few times after that, we are prepared to face any potential new situation with a suit of armor. A platinum face and glass tears that slice your skin as they cascade down your face, gently reminding you not to make the mistake of crying again, but to take action and change for next time.
We put on our masks before going out to meet someone for coffee, to go to the grocery store, to go to class or work. These masks give us the false confidence to embrace the identities that others expect of us. It really sucks when the mask you have chosen for the day does not know the specific social cue needed, and the defense is down for a moment, vulnerability popping through. You will wonder what they thought of that misstep for the rest of the day. You will store away that information and learn it until it is memorized, so you won't let it mess you up again. Meanwhile, the person you were talking to did not register it at all and forgot two minutes later. Because to be vulnerable is worse than death, right? Food for thought.
When I look at people, sometimes I have no idea if they are wearing a mask or not. That’s the power of these masks, they are calculating and meticulous in their concealment. There is much planning done ahead of time, people feeding to their masks what they want to convey, what they want to know, what they want to be perceived as. It is all carefully selected, no need to practice because it is already perfect. There are many things I want to know and will not know, which is frustrating not in its finality, but because there are too many layers to each person’s mask that it is too much to try to wade through. Their masks are so ingrained that they have begun to sink in below the skin, seeping into the system and poisoning the core.
Who is really who? One day I fear we will all be living, breathing machines, operating behind a facade made up of whatever we choose. Present but faceless, feeling but not letting ourselves feel without contempt. Standard instead of unique. We wear these masks to protect ourselves, because if we won't, who will? If it was normalized to view perfection as failure, that real beauty is flawed and the flaw is the beauty. Try to be your true self, as raw, authentic and messy as that is.
