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August 4, 2015

Goodbye Sweet Mask, I Don’t Need You Anymore. {Adult}

who is there

Warning: Adult language ahead.

My lips stretch upward, but what lies below?

Pain, anxiety, uncertainty and all the other things I never want to talk about.

The scariest truths often hide behind the biggest smiles.

And, behind my big, toothy smile, insecurity chips away at my soul; fear consumes me, daily.

Yet I go about my days saying that I feel good. That I have all the answers. That I’m happy.

I keep it together, tightly, so tightly.

I act like I’m bold and glittery, confident as sh*t—but it’s not real.

I want to be more real.

It’s the only thing I thirst for; it’s the only thing that can sustain me.

What does real even mean?

I can’t pretend to know.

All I know is that I need to talk about this fragile insecurity that shakes from within me, precisely because it feels nearly impossible to talk about.

I need to say that I don’t have all the answers. That I’m scared sh*tless. That I want to fall apart. That I feel ashamed of who I am. That I tremble with anxious self-doubt, daily.

I exhale.

My honesty isn’t pretty, but it feels like a refreshing glass of ice-cold water on a hot summer day.

Because the truth—no matter how grotesque—is far more nourishing than the prettiest, sparkliest lies.

I’ve made a nice mask for myself; it’s become a comfortable, shiny home.

But, this perfectly-put-together facade is suffocating me.

Goodbye, sweet mask, you have served me well. I thank you for protecting me.

But—I don’t need you anymore.

I don’t need to hide behind beaming smiles.

I don’t need to smother angry thoughts or suppress thrashing rivers of sadness.

I am allowed to feel every color and taste every f*cking feeling.

Peeling off my layers, one by one, I am stripped raw.

Just me.

No bulls*it. No facade.

I sit here, naked, in the mouth of my darkness, letting life twist me and turn me.

I dive deep—deeper than I’ve ever dared to venture before.

I’m alone. I’m afraid. I cry. I sob. I want to give up.

This is transformation.

It’s a bloody mess; it hurts like hell.

It’s perfect.

I surrender to my tears.

 

Relepahant bonus:

Why it’s Time to Put Down your Mask.

~

Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Travis May

Photo: Flickr/Rikard Eloffson

 

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