Recognizing the Masks We Wear
The Gentle Art of Seeing Ourselves Clearly
At 61, I've worn more masks than I care to count. The overachiever who never quite felt good enough. The woman who hid behind the "introvert" label to avoid uncomfortable social situations, even though I'm perfectly comfortable speaking to groups. The invisible woman hiding behind extra weight to avoid being seen, studied, or found wanting.
But what’s important to note: our masks aren't our enemies. They're intelligent survival strategies we created when we needed them most. Today, we're not here to judge them or tear them off violently. We're here to see them clearly, understand their purpose, and gently explore which ones still serve us, and which ones might be keeping us from the authentic life we're ready to live.
The Wisdom of Our Adaptive Personas
Wearing masks isn't a character flaw. It's profoundly human.
Psychologists call these protective personas "adaptive strategies," and that word "adaptive" is crucial. These masks helped us adapt to environments that felt unsafe, unpredictable, or demanding. As Dr. Gabor Maté explains in his groundbreaking work on trauma and authenticity, we develop these personas not because we're weak, but because we're incredibly resourceful.
Think about the masks you've worn throughout your life. The people-pleaser who emerged when conflict felt too dangerous. The perfectionist who developed when "good enough" never seemed to be enough. The caretaker who learned to focus on everyone else's needs to avoid examining her own. These weren't mistakes; they were intelligent responses to real circumstances.
The first mask I remember appeared when I was just six years old. My mother was hospitalized with a life-threatening blood clot, on heparin and unable to leave her bed. Hospital rules meant children under 12 couldn't visit her room and because she was not supposed to move around, she couldn’t come to the visitors lounge to see me. So, we could only talk by phone. I don't remember the conversation, but according to my mother, I was startlingly business-like for a six-year-old. I told her I knew I was never going to see her again, but I wanted her to know that everyone would be okay because I would take care of them.
The "I'm responsible for everyone" mask was born at that moment, though its roots likely went deeper. I'd been aware, even as a young child, that my mother had been very ill throughout her pregnancy with me. In my six-year-old logic, I'd caused her illness, so it was my job to fix everything. That sense of hyperresponsibility has followed me throughout my life, and I've only recently begun to untangle the truth from the lie of it.
Short Aside: My mother asked me to put Daddy on the phone and arranged with him to bring me to the hospital. They still refused to allow me in the room, but she managed to get herself to the visitors’ lounge so that I could see she was okay. I guess in my mind, though, she was still sick and it was my fault.
I remember the exact moment I realized I'd been wearing the "approval seeker" mask for decades. I was in my forties, sitting in yet another meeting where I nodded along with decisions that didn't align with my values, telling myself I was being collaborative when I was actually seeking belonging.
The irony wasn't lost on me. I'd grown up in a remarkably egalitarian home, one of four children and the only girl, but treated equally to my brothers. That even went for cutting the lawn and cleaning the yard. And my parents were true partners. My voice mattered as much as anyone around our dinner table. But by third grade, I was already learning that the world beyond our front door saw me very differently than my family did.
As a highly sensitive person, though I wouldn't learn that term until decades later, I felt everything intensely. The casual dismissals, the subtle messages that my ideas weren't as valuable, the way adults would pat my head while listening seriously to my brothers' thoughts. What felt like gentle corrections to others landed on me like physical blows. The mask of the "approval seeker" wasn't something I learned at home. It was armor I developed for a world that felt increasingly unsafe to be myself in, especially when being myself meant feeling everything so deeply or being singled out, but not understanding why.
When Protection Becomes Prison
The challenge isn't that we wear masks, it’s that we sometimes forget we're wearing them.
Dr. Elaine Aron's groundbreaking research on highly sensitive people (HSPs) reveals that about 20% of the population processes sensory information more deeply and intensely than others. For HSPs, the world doesn't just feel louder, brighter, or more chaotic; it feels more emotionally charged. We pick up on subtleties others miss: the slight change in someone's tone, the tension in a room, the unspoken disappointment behind a forced smile.
This sensitivity, while often a gift that allows for deep empathy and rich inner lives, can make navigating a world that values "thick skin" and emotional toughness particularly challenging. When you feel everything intensely, including societal messages about who you should be, the impulse to create protective masks becomes even stronger.
The mask of the "grateful person" is particularly common, especially for women. This is the persona that says, "I should be happy with what I have," "I shouldn't want more," or "Other people have it worse." This mask often develops as a response to messages that we should be content, accommodating, and thankful rather than ambitious or discerning about what we truly want.
The Difference Between Performing and Being
Here's how to tell when you're wearing a mask versus expressing your authentic self:
When you're wearing a mask:
You feel drained after social interactions, even pleasant ones (especially true for HSPs who are absorbing everyone's emotions)
You find yourself saying what you think others want to hear to avoid the intensity of conflict
Your energy shifts dramatically based on who you're with and their emotional state
You feel like you're "performing" your life rather than living it
You worry constantly about whether you're doing/saying/being "right"
You feel disconnected from your desires and opinions
You experience physical exhaustion from managing your sensitivity in overwhelming environments
When you're being authentic:
You feel energized by expressing your true thoughts and feelings, even when they're intense
Your core self remains consistent across different relationships
You speak from your values rather than from others' expectations
You feel aligned between your inner experience and outer expression
You're comfortable with some people not understanding the depth of your sensitivity
You trust your judgment and intuition (which is often highly developed in HSPs)
You can honor your sensitivity as a strength rather than hide it as a weakness
The goal isn't to never adapt to different situations, that would be socially dysfunctional. The goal is conscious choice. When I speak differently to my elderly neighbor than I do to my closest friend, that's a healthy adaptation. When I find myself unable to access my authentic voice in a relationship, that's when the mask has become a prison.
The Sacred Practice of Unmasking
The journey toward authentic living isn't about revealing everything to everyone all the time. It's about developing the capacity to choose when you adapt and when you express your genuine self.
Some masks may need to be retired entirely, like the people-pleaser who says yes to everything or the perfectionist who never allows herself to be beautifully human. Others might be refined, keeping the diplomatic skills you developed while adding the courage to express your true opinions.
What I've discovered is that the relationships, opportunities, and experiences that come to us when we show up authentically are so much richer than anything we attract through performance. Yes, some people may not understand or approve when we stop wearing the masks they've grown comfortable with. But the people who love and appreciate our authentic selves are the connections that are worth the risk of disappointing those who preferred our personas.
As you begin to notice your masks this week, please be extraordinarily gentle with yourself. You developed these adaptations for good reasons, and recognizing them is the first step toward conscious choice rather than automatic reaction.
Remember that authenticity isn't a destination, it's a practice. Some days you'll choose adaptation because it serves your goals or protects your energy. Other days, you'll risk vulnerability for the sake of a deeper connection or personal growth. Both choices can be authentic when made consciously.
The goal isn't perfection. It's awareness. And from awareness comes the freedom to choose who we want to be at each moment, based on our values rather than our fears.
A Deeper Dive: The Mask Inventory Journey
✨ Bonus Resource Just for You! ✨
This week’s Deeper Dive: The Mask Inventory Journey takes you through a compassionate process of identifying your masks, understanding their origins, and beginning to choose more consciously when and how you wear them.
I’m providing this as a separate, downloadable, and fillable resource so you can easily save it, print it, or return to it anytime — no scrolling back through the article required. Additionally, paid subscribers can access all of the worksheets in one place by clicking the “Fearless Authenticity toolkit” tab. This is my small thank-you to you, my fellow travelers, for being part of this journey.
Daily Mantra
"I honor the wisdom of my protective masks while choosing authentic expression whenever possible."
Moving Forward with Compassion
As you continue to navigate social expectations and personal choices, remember that your path is uniquely yours. Embrace the journey, celebrate your accomplishments, and surround yourself with people who support and uplift you.
Join me each Sunday at 10:10 a.m. ET for inspiration, encouragement, and community. Why 1010? In numerology, 1010 symbolizes new beginnings, spiritual awakening, and the realization of our potential.
This one resonated deeply! Thank you for the earnestness in your writing and the food for thought ☺️