We wear the mask

We wear the mask that grins and lies,

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—

Are we all just walking around wearing masks? Whether it’s masks due to familial or societal expectations or masks due to fear of others judgment, why are so many of us committed to existing inauthentically? What are we afraid of? The inauthenticity is nauseating here. This veil of fake politeness that I see through along with the sickening acceptance of mediocrity is just too much. I no longer trust “nice” Canadians. I need realness. I don’t give a damn about niceness. I’ve been duped far too many times by so-called “nice” people, my ex being one of them. Naw. Give me someone who shows up and is not afraid to be exactly who they are with their flaws, messiness, and politically incorrect quips. At least then I know what I’m dealing with and I can decide whether I want to deal with it. Most likely I will, because I so appreciate people who are transparent and keep it real.

But of course, as with anything we call out in others we first have to look inward. And so I’ve had to ask myself what masks I’m wearing. And if I’m completely honest, why not be, I’m a great pretender. I’m pretending that I don’t have feelings for someone. I’m pretending that being alone doesn’t bother me. I’m pretending that I’m completely content and fulfilled and that is so far from the truth. In truth, I’m juggling my own damn masks, so much so that I’m utterly exhausted. It’s hard work wearing these masks and pretending to be okay. I haven’t told anyone that I cry often, that sometimes it’s hard for me to get out of bed and this past summer, I went to a very dark, scary place. No one knows. And to top it off, I stopped seeing my therapist, because I don’t even want to talk about it. What’s the point?

Truth is most folks can’t handle that level of realness. It’s too much for most people. Hell, it’s too much for me. So, I will continue to juggle and wear these masks, because that’s what it seems we’ve all been conditioned to do and no one wants to be around THAT person. The one who can’t shake their sadness and makes everyone uncomfortable. Nah. I’ll wear my “ray of sunshine” mask until I just can’t anymore. Until it becomes too heavy for me to carry or, more hopefully, it stops being a mask.

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