The Masks We Wear

I haven’t written a blog post in ages and to be quite honest I’ve missed writing. Part of the reason I haven’t written recently is due to being incredibly busy with uni work and not having the motivation to write. But in all honesty the reason that I haven’t written is because I knew that whatever I would write would be raw and personal, and quite frankly, that terrifies me.

I’m not really the kind of person to talk about their feelings and emotions and all that kind of crap. It’s funny actually. I’ve been doing so much thinking about my own masks and personas recently. Someone once told me that I was deceptively guarded and I’d have to agree with them. I tend to come across as sociable, chatty,  friendly, and open. Like I’d tell you my whole life story and answer any question you wanted to ask without question. But in all honesty, that is a lie. It’s all on the surface, a mask that is very carefully constructed and in most instances highly effective to boot. It’s a mask so good that it’s hard to notice it at first. It’s only once you get to know me that you realise that the mask is even there, and sometimes not even then.

I am a master at diversionary tactics, of changing the subject, and of blending it in with my ‘ooh, look a squirrel’ kind of nature. Someone else described my mask as being like a glass wall, and that reminded me of those patio doors. You know the kind that you don’t even realise are there until you smack face first into them. And sometimes, even if you know that it’s there you forget and run smack back into it once again.

I love my mask, it’s my safety net, my protection, my armour. It makes me appear confident, bold, happy, and put together. The only problem is that I have been wearing this mask for so long that I no longer know what lies beneath, I know longer know how to live without it. But for now it is highly likely that my posts will be raw and honest, and with an openness that makes me scared,

Sophie x


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