Take Off Your Mask
Who are you? Who are you really? Who is behind your mask…or perhaps, one should wonder, what is it that you are hiding?
We all wear masks, it’s part of human nature now to evolve, change and morph our personalities, characteristics and values to adapt to our surroundings. Being our constant true selves just wouldn’t do in today’s world. Would it be ok to laugh and giggle at a funeral or to stand up and scream in a full class room? I mean, that doesn’t stop everyone but you get my drift hehe. As emotional sentient beings, it is part of our nature to regulate our emotions, transform our thoughts and shape our wording, behaviour and expressions to suit certain situations and to fit into ideal societal expected norms; it is innately within us to wear a mask. We have learnt through exposure and been taught this since we began to express ourselves as young children, ‘you shouldn’t say that’, ‘you must be polite’, ‘if this happens then you must say/do/be this’. Masks are normal, needed and natural; without them there would probably be a lot more controversy, aggression and discomfort in our society (imagine if you told that person how you really really felt about them instead of politely nodding and smiling). Masks can also give us hope, strength and courage. We may feel terrified and nervous to speak to a large group of people, but that’s ok; we can simply place our mask of courage on, we can protect ourselves and we can simply pretend. 'Fake it till you make it', can sometimes be the most empowering freeing piece of advice one could ever receive. It removes the pressure on us to be and instead allows us to simply try, while knowing that we can fall back to our true natural selves if faced with failure.
'Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.'
But what happens when you begin to wear your mask too often? What happens when you forget to take it off, or even worse, become fearful of removing it? What happens when the mask seeps into your skin and traps your true form within? What happens when the mask you so carefully designed to protect you, ends up becoming the very alternative; the mask that destroys you.
We all wear masks, and, depending on who you are, your charades may be fruitful, efficient, effective, beneficial and appropriate. Other’s costumes however, become so engraved deep within their skin that it feels almost impossible to take it off, perhaps except only to the select few.
Just like everyone else, I wear masks. I try my best to connect, react and express myself appropriately according to various situations. However, a long time ago I developed a mask; a mask that no matter how hard I claw or pull at still, remains stuck. Maybe I just have a really sticky face hehe. This mask is called the brave face. We all apply this façade at times..imagine just how well it would go down if you were the one bawling crying at the site of a spider while baby sitting toddlers lol! Sometimes we have to be a big girl/boy, we have to toughen up and pretend everything is all ok. Something within me however, and many many others who most definitely struggle with this, took this desire and need to please, protect and not burden others, to the extreme. Thus we began to wear the mask more often, even in situations when wearing it may not have been very helpful to us. ‘Are you ok?’, someone asks as you walk out of the bathroom stall with red eyes and running mascara..'yes perfect just got something in my eye lol, how are you, are you ok, tell me your problems, how can I help you, let me be of service to you!’.
Perhaps you may be questioning, so what, what’s so bad about putting on a brave face?! Isn’t it good not to burden others? Isn’t it good to be strong? Isn’t it good to learn how to cope by yourself? And I agree wholeheartedly; yes yes yes…until the last one, what if you do not know how to cope alone?
When a brave face becomes so entrenched, the often terrified and scared soul behind the mask becomes less and less heard. You can scream and cry and shout and punch but the brave face grows very strong; it can mute you, dissolve you, constrain you and pull the true you so far from the reach and grasp of others that it becomes impossible for anybody to ever recognise that deep down, there is a scared, sad and solemn soul within.
Such courageous masks can be deceptive, manipulative and hurtful. When I was thirteen years old and a demon called anorexia began to seep into my mind, the brave face, in correlation, grew stronger. At the age of sixteen, when the mask ever so slightly tore and a completely unprecedented world of pain began to seep out of the cracks pouring onto those I love, how was anyone to know that that darkness was there, hiding, all along? A while later, in my first inpatient hospital admission for the illness, my brave face fully healed, restored and repaired; it was stronger than ever. This strong steel armour fooled even the most expert of psychiatrists, doctors and nurses. I was still in the grips of a monster but the brave face helped the anorexia to trick them all that I was well enough to be discharged, only to be sicker than ever and readmitted a few months later (read my Lessons From My Mental Hospital here).
I think something which makes brave faces even scarier is that they are self-instilling, it becomes a vicious self-enforcing cycle. When you are locked behind a mask and screaming for help, you get tired, lonely and maybe even resentful. Such experiences create further beliefs that you are uncared for and unworthy, thus, you begin to believe that you should just stop screaming out because nobody really cares to listen to you anyway. I am so guilty of getting so upset and frustrated internally upon receiving feedback or compliments on how much ‘happier’ or ‘healthier’ or ‘great’ I seem..sometimes I just want to scream ‘I am in so much pain, how can’t you see!’ but instead I smile and say thank you, further enabling the masks cyclical cynical nature.
Wearing a brave face is tiring but I have also noticed that it can actually start to become your true self, proving that ‘fake it till you make it’ may indeed be possible and oh so empowering. However, acknowledging that you may actually be a little bit happier, that you have grown into your new skin or that *biggest fear of all* your inner demons may have a slightly smaller grip on you, sometimes, scares us even more than the pain we hid for so long. The creation of a new agony for its own sheer absence. Perhaps one of the most piercing paradoxes of pain is its longing to go yet its longing to never ever leave you. I think especially in eating disorder recovery, any compliment or comment which could in anyway be interpreted as journeying further down the recovery path, equates to fat, disgusting, ugly, obese, wobbly...you name it. Someone recently told me that my finger nails were nice and I cried because I believed it meant I was fat; because skeletal people can’t have nice finger nails and that’s what the anorexia wants, to be a walking rotting ghost. I think it is terrifying for anyone with any pain to truly let go. How do you embrace softness, how do you embrace light, how do you embrace a beautiful new reflection which no longer longs for a mask of pretence?
Maybe it is in the very act of shining a light on the darkness that the self-enforcing cycle can begin to dissolve and we can reveal both the shadows and sparkles within us to all around. Take off your mask, allow yourself to be seen, throughout all aspects of your unveiling. Perhaps you are cloaked in a heavy constraining armour, full of hidden secrets, emotions and thoughts or maybe your pages have already began to turn and you’re becoming a more open book. Wherever you are in your journey, it’s ok. There’s no judgement, only awe, in witnessing your vulnerability.
'To share your darkness is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength.'
I don’t want people to look at me and think that a life can always be rosy. Someone I love recently told me that ‘I’m full of sh*t’. It hurt and upset me but their belief that it’s time I stop pretending my world is a conglomerate of inspiring quotes, yoga classes, perfect grades, beautiful sunsets and exciting parties, consumed me as, if that’s what others perceive and believe, then, I am a liar. And so, in vulnerability, I take the leap into the light and unveil my hidden shadows to you. For only in shining a torch on our pain can it ever begin to dissolve. I don’t feel too good. The first few months of college were magical; so new, exciting and exhilarating that it took me away from even thinking about or addressing my underlying issues within. By Christmas it truly hit me just how stuck I was and am. Anorexia is still at the core of my life (read my story here). I promised myself once the leaving cert was over that I would do everything and anything to begin the journey of full recovery; that I would gain a kinder self view, that I would reach a healthy weight and most importantly that I would begin the lifelong odyssey towards reaching a healthy mind. It’s been almost two years since my last hospital admission and here I am; the exact same confused and consumed girl. It’s amazing, I can attend college, I can go on holidays, I can go out with friends, I can live out of home and perhaps that’s the part of the mask which you see of which has become easier to embrace and the part of the illness which has been hard to let go. But, what is not seen is that I can't nor have never eaten in front of anyone in college (except an apple once and it was so hard), that I can’t socialise because instead I must exercise, that I turn down countless invitations because everyone else will be eating, that I walk down the streets with my head down for fear I'll catch a glimpse of my body in a shop window, that I have to bring a bag full of my safe food when travelling abroad, that I ruin so many precious and ‘should be magic’ family moments because I am crying over how much I hate myself. What about life? What about living? I went from barely alive to now being able to survive. But is that it? Is this life; this heavily biased (im)balance between life and death? When at times the ocean of my mind becomes very quiet and still, when the thoughts of self hatred and loathing settle to the bottom, a question from a foreign wave of self compassion floats to the top; is this what I deserve? Do I deserve to someday perhaps thrive and not just survive? I know what I would say if you reading this came with such a query, it's just often so hard to apply such kindness and understanding to ourselves. Along with struggling to fight this illness, these thoughts have me in a further absolute muddle over the past few months. I'm so scared. Every word I type I can almost hear my thoughts screaming in unison..'people are going to laugh at you, you're way too fat for anyone to ever think you're struggling', 'how dare you even question if you deserve a better life, you're not even worthy enough for a life, full stop', 'you're not in pain, you're just weak, stupid, selfish, lazy and an attention seeker', 'people have it so much worse off and here you are, horrible ugly little miss piggy actually considering that what all the professionals, family members, friends and strangers say is true..that you may actually be ill, with a self view in both body and mind completely warped...the cheek of you, go run outside and burn that thigh jiggle and maybe then we'll consider this whole life thing'.
I was going to delete that, it's extremely personal and usually something only my diary ever sees but that is what currently lies behind my mask. These are my shadows and perhaps this act of expression may be the beginning of their rebirth into stars. My biggest biggest fear is that you reading this may think I am selfish and ignorant; crying out for attention, pity or love and I hope and pray with every ounce of me that that is not how this comes across. I am soooo deeply aware that my suffering is so minute and inadequate to the torment and agony that is cast upon others and for that I am so forever grateful, yet, I am also aware that such a thought alone holds me, and I can only presume many others, back from dropping our masks in the first place. Your pain is valid, but that does not mean that it's welcome in your life. I truly hope that in sharing my darkness, you may gain the courage and strength to allow the gleaming rays of love, compassion and empathy to fall upon yours. In courage there is strength, we gain power over our pain.
There is one very important question I want you to ask yourself right now, 'what lies behind my mask?'. Maybe you don't think you are wearing one or perhaps you are scared to peak beneath, but, I promise you, that only in confronting the night of our soul can we reach the boundless, unconditional, shining rise of the day.
Furthermore, I ask you to take the next step and to share your findings. Talk, scream, call, text, write, dance, sing it out. I would absolutely love if you could comment your finding below, even anonymously if you so choose. Express, reveal, unveil and watch how much lighter you will become. You are so brave. I am so proud of you.
'What happens when people open their hearts?'
'They get better.'
I hope you enjoyed!
lots of love & peace & happiness
Lauren x
