Masquerade

You place the mask over your face and walk down the elaborate staircase into a room full of other covered faces. You walk amongst them, not fully knowing who they are and they not knowing who you fully are. You nod at each person as you pass making sure your mask is still precariously placed where you want it to be. You walk across the floor, stopping ever so often to partake in a dance to a piece of music that enchants your ear. You meet someone and begin a conversation. As you do, you slowly start to feel comfortable and want to know more about the person on the other side of the decorated mask. You both slowly start to remove the facade that you have each been hiding behind the entire time. For the first time, you are looking someone in the eye with your truth. Revealing who you are. You are vulnerable and unhidden. You are out in the open and exposed. But it is fine. You feel accepted because slowly one by one, other people start to put down their mask and their guard. Those who know me know that I am a proud gay woman. I own who I am and love myself completely. This, however, was not always the case...as it is not for others as well. For 31 years I hid behind a mask. I put on a show pretending to be invisible for fear of being noticed. I played the part. I would partake in the facade. On the outside, I was just another decorated mask. Behind the decoration, I was crying. I was not happy. It wasn't until I met people who loved me and accepted me for who I was that I slowly started to lower my mask and reveal who I was. Who I truly was. You see, with the mask I could be anyone. No one knew who was living behind the costume. No one except for me. Though I made it work at every single masquerade I attended, when I got home, I had to stand in the mirror and take the mask off. Night after night, over and over. Behind the beautifully ornate mask was a tear streaked face and a quivering lip. The mascara lined my cheeks to a point it was almost impossible to cover it up daily with the foundation and powder. Eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. The masquerades were becoming exhausting and I was running out of masks and lies. Don't you see? This isn't just me. This isn't just LGBTQs. This is everyone who feels they can't be who they are. Everyone who feels safer and more accepted behind a mask. Why is it this way? Who says we can't come to the masquerade in full face as ourselves? Somewhere along the way we found sanctuary behind a mask of stained glass and a facade of "I'm fines" and "This is who I have to be's" Our masks became words of untruth and fear. I want you to know that you don't have to hide. You don't have to be "that". You don't have to act like everything is okay. But you do have to be happy. You do have to rip the mask off and be everything you are meant to be. Behind the mask is a purpose. A reason. A human. A heart. A you. And you are more gorgeous without the decoration. Love yourself. Love the person in the mirror despite what others tell that person they need to be. The only thing you need to be...is who you are. And for those days you see the mask laying there and are wanting to pick it up, look beside it. There is a sword. Pick that up, go into the world and slay every dragon that attempts to burn down the good inside you. Dragons can be beaten. So adorn a helmet, not a mask and cross the dance floor, full face...and absolutely decorated in you.