I write a lot of random shit, and I write in such a spur of the moment way that I miss a lot of content that just falls out. I wrote this the other day:
Defining moments in any journey
Do I choose left or right or come out on a gurney?
Will I make to many mistakes and lose the tourney?
Or doesn’t it matter since I cannot lose the learning…
There was a partner I had once, and I am not ready to write about his door yet though it most certainly is closed permanently. He used to talk a lot about masks that we wear on any given day. I wear a lot of masks. I hide the majority of who I am learning to become regularly. I don’t hide my flavor or my essence, but I hide enough of my details such that there are very few who actually see me anymore.
I was chatting online with a girlfriend about the exhaustion of mask wearing…the weight and the burden of its consistency. Her journey has led her to a freedom that lent itself to authenticity and a shrinkage of her masks.
I feel as though I might actually wish to shrink into fetal position under my mask and let it cover me more. I will use my mask as a weighted blanket to comfort my vulnerability for a time.
This is the hiding before shedding the mask entirely. The vulnerability in these days of my marriage ending is very naked. The nakedness under the mask feels ugly. It feels gross. It feels cold. It feels very very lonely.
That mask protects me, but it also holds me down and makes me feel the embarrassment of being actually naked and real. So this is the journey, and the learning in front of me.
It might very well kill off the scared little girl hiding like a turtle under that mask. That little girl isn’t me, and I don’t have to be afraid of her going.