It’s such a complex thing, this wearing of masks.
For every friend, every person, I put on a special mask. I used to think I could be my truest self with people I trusted, people who loved me unconditionally, but there are limits to what even these souls can take.
Granted, some masks are more transparent than others. But they are all needful.
I’m sure I’m wearing one to face myself. The Scriptures say, “The heart is deceitful above all things. Who can understand it?”
The mask protects me from me.
And so I shouldn’t judge or begrudge others when they veil their most private selves, it’s one of the few things we’ve learned to do well.
Truthfully, I don’t want to know sometimes, for the truth can hurt.
There is beauty in such concealment, and that makes life, this masquerade, such a thing of beauty.