We are approaching a season where many masks will be worn. Most of them scary because for some strange reason fear excites people. It brings about a fight or flight reaction that others find either humorus or in some ways intriguing. I personally have never been one for scary things. I absolutly HATE the feeling of being frightened, and will avoid, at all costs, anything that causes anxiety to rise up in me.
I guess that on a deeper level facing what scares you and not allowing it to “move” you is a part of maturity. It says that you have a feeling but the feeling doesn’t “have” you! As I began to think about this I realized that all masks are not scary. There are actually some masks that I personally owned that were quite beautiful. They could tell a narrative about me that was at least 95% believable. Or so I thought…
If I wore my smiling face with my most fashionable outfit you’d believe I had it all together. If I wore my angry face along with an attitude of indignation you’d belive I possessed a power/strength within.
These all seem harmless until you begin to believe and value the lie over the truth. When addressing who you are it’s of the utmost importance to KNOW WHO YOU ARE. I use to hate being around people. Not that there was anything wrong with people, but it was sooooooo much work deciding what mask to put on. And the work it took to portray Shakia instead of just being Shakia….I’m tired just thinking about it.
I just wanted to be accepted, but didn’t go through the arduous task of accepting myself. I skipped over me and said to myself ” if I find someone who loves and accept themselves and just copy their behavior then I’ll be acceptable.” So I became and aweful copy instead the original I was made to be.
There came a time when I just couldn’t do it anymore. The masks hurt. I mean, they still fit and I could still wear them but I neglected Shakia so much that I couldn’t stand the reflection of myself. I guess when you neglect something for so long it begins to morph into something even more hidious than before. So though the mask were aesthetically pleasing Shakia was the ugliest she’s ever been.
Brevity: I finally faced the world as ME. All my scars, rejection, and hurt. It was scary, but it felt so freeing. I knew I had a long road ahead and that I may very well reach back into my bag of masks because it was so second nature to me, but I was willing to do the work. I’d rather die an original than a copy.
As I began to find out who Christ was he showed me who I was. I learned that you don’t see or know people based on what your natural eye preseves. We are fearfully and wonderfully made. Who in the world would want to cover that up! I mean so much purpose and work went into crafting us. Whatever we have taken on that doesn’t match our intended purpose will never fit properly. It will always be a weight and something that will cause anxiety to rise up in us. When I exposed all of my scars to light they began to heal properly, and even though from time to time I go back into that bag of masks they just don’t fit anymore.