Maybe it’s because it’s Halloween-time. Maybe it’s the emergence of costumes and ghoulish decorations and bite-sized candy in pretty much every store I venture into. Whatever the reason, I’ve been thinking a lot about masks. Not masks like the demented bloody skull-ape (?!) I saw drooping on a rack at my local CVS, and not even masks like the elegant, mysterious tear-drop masks of a midnight masquerade (though these are visually more pleasing!). I am thinking of the ways in which we present ourselves in the world to elicit a certain response, to fill a certain role, or to “play” a certain part. Now, I always say, I am a realist. I recognize, that despite being most comfortable in shorts and my Ace Hotel t-shirt, face scrubbed clean after a day of work, I can’t very well show up to work that way. I cannot present to my office and expect for patients or families or doctors or nurses to see me as a professional unless I present as one. Most of us cannot. So to be clear, I am not suggesting that we all eschew the trappings of our lives or professions. I am also not suggesting that we stop doing the things that make us feel confident or beautiful or strong. I think we all need to dress, be, and act in the way that helps us connect to our best sense of self, whatever that may be.
I also know that there are things that are asked of us–culturally, socially–that don’t feel 100% right. I know that we conform sometimes to a norm that is not comfortable, and we don’t take the time to question it or to challenge where it came from. We don’t always have the insight or the confidence or perspective to ask what it takes from us. It takes a lot of energy. It can erode our sense of self…wearing a “mask” can take a toll. And if we aren’t aware of it, and if we aren’t questioning it, then we also cannot make a decision to maintain or reject it.
Recently, the exceptionally gifted Alicia Keys wrote a public essay detailing why she would no longer wear makeup. Not for photo shoots, not for television appearances, not to be a judge on The Voice. This is a gesture viewed with wonder and awe in this world of artifice and glamour, that a young, talented, highly sought after public figure would (gasp!) decide not to wear makeup (read: conform to previously established and acceptable social norms). And I need to say that I am not suggesting that everyone go without makeup, or that there is something wrong with you if you do. The point that Alicia Keys made so effectively is not about whether or not to wear makeup, but to examine the motives and intention for doing so. For her, clearly, it had become something to hide (or be hidden?) behind. For her, it signified the many ways that she has been asked, implicitly or explicitly to be something other than exactly who and what she is. That every time we do something for someone else, that does not serve our own truth, it is, as Maya Angelou used to say, “like getting pecked to death by ducks“.
Of course, makeup is only one mask that we wear, and so I am sitting and writing this as an invitation for each of us to identify the places in our lives where we have given the ground of who we are in the service of who others think we should be. Sometimes, it’s who we want to be, or think we should be, too. If you are the person with a sweet tooth who won’t order dessert when out with friends if everyone else is too full, you are wearing a mask. If you are feeling depleted, exhausted, and sick but say “yes” to lunch on Saturday anyway, you are wearing a mask. If you’ve gotten bad news, or have had a rotten day, or have recently lost someone you love, but when a trusted someone in your life asks “how are you?” you answer “fine”? You’re wearing a mask, too. And I know that sometimes, you have to. Masks can be self-protective. I get that.
There is power in “acting as if”, to borrow a technique from the 12-steppers. It is said that assuming the pose of a superhero actually elicits a hormonal response that makes us feel and behave more confidently. These are not small things. But we should also have a sense of when doing that very thing is actually distancing us, keeping us from appearing vulnerable or “imperfect”. Brene Brown speaks of the “vulnerability paradox“, whereby the thing that we most value in others (vulnerability, openness), that most makes us connect and feel connected is the thing we are least likely to share when we meet people. The thing is that we are all imperfect. We all carry burdens, take on tasks and make adjustments in our lives for very good reasons. But at the end of the day, I think we can all figure out how to be more true. More consistent. More kind to ourselves, more connected to others. And none of it can happen unless we name and shed our chosen masks.
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Jose says
I am burning down my mask closet today. It is too crowded anyway.