The Mask I Wear vs. The Face I Hide

Self & Identity Series

The mask I wear is polished. It knows how to smile at the right times, nod in agreement, keep the peace. It knows how to look “put together” even when I feel like I’m unraveling. This mask knows what society likes to see: perfection, productivity, being agreeable, being acceptable. It’s the version of me that doesn’t scare people away.

But the face I hide? That’s the me I’m not sure anyone actually wants to see. The me that’s messy, uncertain, moody, questioning everything. The me that doesn’t always want to be polite or quiet or pleasing. The me that cries without knowing why, that struggles to believe she’s enough.

Why don’t I like her? Why can’t I be okay with the one who is closest to the truth? Have I been so conditioned—so trained—that I believe my real self is somehow “wrong”? That she’s too much, not enough, or simply not suitable for this world?

It’s exhausting, keeping the mask on. But it’s terrifying, imagining what might happen if I took it off. Would people leave? Would they laugh? Would they finally see me and say, “Yeah, you were right to hide her”?

I don’t know yet. What I do know is that I feel safest behind the mask—and yet most suffocated there too. And somewhere between those two extremes is the real battle: me, trying to remember what my face even looks like without the layers.