Living a masked ball

We all do it from time to time. We put on a mask because we don’t want people to know what we’re thinking. Being polite is a mask most of the time. Pretending you like your colleagues while you in reality want to throttle them. It’s all a mask. And there is nothing wrong with that. It makes life easier.

But… what if your life becomes the mask?

I recently noticed that my life seems to be like that. Like I’m constantly wearing a mask. And when I started thinking about it… well, it dawned on me that I’ve been doing that for quite a while. I have to admit that I was never very good at being myself around others. When I was still in school it was tedious being myself. My classmates didn’t like me when I was myself too much. I was bullied from time to time. But I now pinpointed the time when I began to consciously wear a mask. It was in twelfth’s grade. It was after I was bullied and betrayed by people I had called friends until then. Actually, it began during that period of time. I didn’t want them thinking they had won. So I started wearing a mask of indifference. It killed me inside. After every class I went to the bathroom to fight my tears and my panic. And I wanted to cry. The worst part was that I got easier. The first day was hell. We had a free period and my friends went to town to get new socks because it was raining so badly and one ‘friend’s’ socks were soaked. They had been gone in a flash. When I caught up with them and asked why they hadn’t waited for me they said, and I quote: “Don’t you know when you’re unwanted?” That one sentence gutted me. They left me standing there, all alone, on the verge of tears. It felt like someone had hit me in the chest hard. I wanted to go home, go to my mummy and let her tell me she loved me. Because apparently only my mummy loved me. Apparently I wasn’t lovable enough for other people than my mother to like me. But I didn’t go home. Goody-two-shoes I was I toughed it out and went back to school. I spent my free period trying to reign in the tears and calm myself down enough to be able to sit through the classes I had that day. That was the first time I decided to put on a mask. I was so relieved that nobody noticed my inner terror. And I hated it the same time. I hated that nobody apparently cared enough about me to see through my poor attempt at calmness. They were okay with the explanation that I was tired. I broke down that day when I came home.

And since then I’m wearing more or less constantly a mask. It’s not beneficial to my trust issues, I get that. But that episode hurt so much and damaged a lot of self-confidence. I don’t want it repeated. And still there are very few people I can be myself with. Most people don’t even do more than scratch the surface. Most people think of me as a nice, polite and overall boring person. I’m exceptionally good at schooling my face into a blank mask of polite niceness. I nod sympathetically when they tell me about their problems and make all the appropriate faces and noises of understanding. I listen with an interested face when they are babbling about things I couldn’t care less about. I offer comfort and advice without pause when asked. I smile and wave for greeting even when I want to scowl and metaphorically bite they head off. I do as people ask me without complaining most of the time.

When someone says they are thirsty, guess who’s the first one going to fetch a drink? Yep, me.

When someone come to the group who’s moving to make space? Yep, me.

Who is fading into the background when the situation calls for that? Yep. Again, me.

I’m deceptive. I’m two-faced. But at the same time it feels like this mask of politeness had become a part of me. Is it still betrayal when it’s ingrained to deeply into me that it has become automatic? I don’t know. I really don’t. I doubt I would be able to tell people to piss off anymore. I might think it but I would physically be unable to tell them so. I don’t want to betray people like that for the most part. It’s an automatism. I’m keeping people at arm-length for self protection. My poor mind has learnt that people do not like me for what and who I am and now it’s trying to protect me by creating a façade people do not like but tolerate. I’m not liked the way I act. I think maybe subconsciously people notice that it’s a façade, a mask, and are wary of me. But they can’t find fault at me being nice and polite. There is nothing they can put their finger on. So they have to tolerate me. And it’s better than the outright rejection I experienced with my ‘friends’. I’m never in the center of groups and I’m always the odd one out. But all of that is better than being told I’m unwanted. Because that hurts.

But naturally I want to fully belong. All people want that. I want to be able to shed the mask and just be myself. I want to be accepted just the way I am and even maybe liked. I don’t ask of people to love me unconditionally. But sometimes a little bit of interest in my life and my problems would be nice. It wouldn’t have to be genuine interest, even. I can’t ask for something I’m not giving, right? But people could try and improve their pretending. Maybe it’s just me who see through that because it’s what I do. Pretending. Maybe other people think it’s genuine interest and concern. But I can tell it isn’t. It’s pretending and it’s not well done. That bothers me. Why am always I the one to do things properly? Why can’t others? It’s not like it’s easy for me to wear a mask the entire time. It’s exhausting. But I do it. For very selfish reasons. But why can’t people who don’t have problems with being liked for what they are just use a bit of energy to create a better image of concern? Of interest? The impression that they care? It’s not like they need that energy for hiding themselves. But maybe I’m asking for too much.