The Masks We Wear . . . And Why They’re Exhausting!
Unmasked: How I Became My Own Worst Impostor
It’s that time of year again—Halloween.
The one day we all openly admit we’re wearing masks. Cute ones, creepy ones, sparkly ones… and let’s be real, the occasional “I didn’t have time so I’m a cheerleader again this year” one.
But here’s the thing . . . what about the other 364 days of the year?
Those days when the masks aren’t made of plastic or glitter, but perfectionism, people-pleasing, or pretending everything’s fine when it’s absolutely not?
Because if I’m honest, I’ve worn more emotional masks than Spirit Halloween has aisles.
You ever catch yourself lying to yourself?
Yeah, me too. And I was really good at it.
I could convince myself I was “fine” while running on empty, “happy” while quietly comparing myself to everyone on Instagram, and “confident” while secretly terrified someone might find out I had no idea what I was doing.
It wasn’t malicious, it was survival.
We all wear masks, right? We learn early that being too much or not enough can lead to judgment, rejection, or those awkward moments when you realize you don’t quite fit in. So, we adapt. We become who we think we’re supposed to be. The smiling, achieving, people-pleasing versions of ourselves.
And honestly, it works… for a while.
Until it doesn’t.
The Great Disconnection
Here’s the thing no one tells you: when you wear a mask long enough, you start to forget what your own face looks like underneath it.
I got so caught up trying to be liked, respected, or seen as “together” that I stopped asking myself the most basic question: Am I being honest with me?
Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.
I told myself stories like:
“I’m just busy,” when I was actually avoiding my feelings.
“I’m totally fine with that,” when I was absolutely not fine with that.
“It’s not a big deal,” when it was a huge deal that I didn’t want to face.
The result? Frustration. Stress. The constant low-level anxiety of living out of alignment with who I really was. And because I didn’t know how to deal with it, I did what any emotionally mature adult does… I beat myself up for it.
It’s wild how we can be so compassionate to others but turn into our own worst critics behind closed doors. I’d never talk to a friend the way I talked to myself. Yet there I was—my own personal bully disguised as a motivational speaker.
The Self-Awareness Plot Twist
Eventually, I had to admit that maybe—just maybe—the problem wasn’t the world being too demanding, or people not understanding me. Maybe the issue was that I’d been hiding from me.
Self-awareness sounds simple, but wow, it’s like peeling an onion made of tears and therapy sessions. The more honest I got with myself, the more I realized how often fear had been driving the car while I pretended to be in control.
But here’s the beautiful part: once I started actually listening to myself—without judgment, without trying to “fix” everything — I began to feel lighter.
No, not instantly “woo-woo zen monk” lighter. More like, I can finally breathe again lighter.
The Takeaway (Before I Lie to Myself Again)
The masks we wear protect us, but they also suffocate us.
We think we’re avoiding pain, but really we’re avoiding authenticity.
We want acceptance so badly that we forget the one person we need acceptance from most—ourselves.
So now, when I feel that urge to hide, I pause and ask: What am I scared of right now?
Usually, the answer is “not being enough.” But I remind myself that I don’t have to be enough for everyone—I just have to be real with me.
And honestly? That’s been the most freeing thing I’ve ever done.
Final Thought
These days, I’m learning it’s a lot less about finding the “perfect” version of me and more about just showing up as me — even when I’m awkward, tired, or still figuring it out.
I used to think the mask made me safer, but honestly, it just made me lonelier. So now, I’m practicing being honest with myself, even when it’s uncomfortable. Some days I nail it. Some days I still reach for the mask. But at least I notice it now.
I’m learning to be kinder to myself, even the parts that aren’t the prettiest and sometimes even look like the scariest masks you’ll be seeing this Halloween. In my opinion, this feels like progress.
