Published on 12, July, 2020
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5509825/
Masks / Camouflage / Performance art etc, call it what you will but after many years of "fitting in" - as a partner, mother, employee, daughter, sister, sibling, citizen it is possible to successfully drop the mask completely and does everyone mask to a certain extent. But, what happens when it becomes detrimental and shift has got to happen in order to save yourself?
"..... two key motivations for camouflaging; assimilation and connection. This suggests that camouflaging behaviours come from multiple sources. They may be internally driven by the individual to accomplish specific goals such as friendships, but they may also be produced as a response to external demands placed on how a person should behave in society. The differential influence of each of these motivations varies between individuals, but our findings suggest that people are strongly motivated by wanting to avoid discrimination and negative responses from others."
Do you even remember or know who your true self is or has ever been?
But think of the risks? Feeling more exposed, vulnerable, being feeling duped - "so you just "played a role" all of these years. What if they don't like the true you? The saying goes "you can bend a twig but not a branch...after so many years is it feasible to re-set self and start again?
And there, lies the rub, did you mask due to self preservation or just due to a fear of rejection and being outcast from society?
So question: Is it possible to drop the mask? Is that too extreme, or is it just better to find small pockets in life to "be" (you know, when everyone has gone to bed and no one is watching)? Why did we learn to mask in the first place?
I no longer mask at all. I'm my true self now out there. People take me as they find me - and if they don't like it, that's fair enough. Most seem very curious. A few who should be more accepting - family, for instance - have turned further away. At least I know now who the 'right' people are. Some people might think it's a brave move - like coming out of the closet - but I no longer am prepared to live a lie. That's not meant as a judgmental comment on people who still choose to stay in camouflage. It was what I personally felt that I was doing: through not being my true self to others, I was lying to myself. My diagnosis, I found, gave me the validation I needed to drop the mask... or, rather, gradually peel it away! It was like my face was pixelated, and over a course of time it gradually resolved and sharpened to reveal the features properly. Interestingly - perhaps coincidentally, but I don't think so - it was around that time that I took all photographs of myself (not many) off my social media profiles, and I no longer show any personal photos at all.
That is what I feel like a bit. I've not removed my profile pics though. I wonder what the meaning is to your doing that? Do you know? Is it like, I am not what you see at first glance? Very interesting.
PS Maybe it's a good deal why I'm drawn to writing. I can express myself - 'perform', if you like - but retain my anonymity at the same time. I also enjoy doing memes and other digital artwork (usually subversive!) But I'd never want my face splashed across a book jacket. I have writer friends whose profile pics on social media are invariably of themselves in 'self-important author' mode, or of themselves giving readings in front of an audience. Ugh! The very thought! If they want to see anything of me on a book jacket, it would more likely be the back of my head! Or my derriere! I admire figures like Banksy - a guerilla artist, universally famous... and who knows what he looks like?
No... it's more like it's because it doesn't present the real me. I don't think photographs ever can. I've never liked having my photo taken, anyway, and really don't get 'selfie' culture. I suppose I have an odd take on it all. I'm happy to get up in front of lots of people and perform - do poetry readings, etc (I once did a short stint of stand-up, but I can't handle hecklers!) - and I don't mind being the centre of attention in that way. But off-stage, I go and hide. It's like I want to retain something. I've always kind of stuck out, anyway, being very tall. But I'm very self-conscious, and don't have a good 'image' of myself. I feel awkward and gawky. I think I'd be horrified to see myself on a video, for instance. I always thought I should act, because I'm happy to dress up and step into someone else's shoes. Be someone I can't be. But I'd never want to see myself perform. I couldn't handle that. And as soon as the performance is over, I would want my anonymity back. I'm not sure how I'd handle something like fame, and being spotted everywhere I go. At the same time, I can see the draw of it. I'm not really sure what I'm saying - it all sounds a little contradictory!
My job, working with special needs (autistic) adults brings out the 'performer' in me - which is, in fact, the real me. At work, as soon as they arrive, I get into their world and can actually be completely myself, and totally comfortable, for the rest of the day. Before my diagnosis, I used to switch back to then putting on my mask - I suppose, my 'real' performance - for everyone else. I no longer do that. I think this is where the diagnosis has given me the confidence to stay being myself. So people see the me that's really in there for most of the time. I can think of no other day job where this is possible. Whenever I've worked in other roles, such as offices, I've had to keep buttoned-up.
I'm fascinated by individuals such as Spike Milligan and Peter Sellers. Sellers apparently was chronically insecure, and only ever felt comfortable 'in role'. Milligan just seemed to be himself in any situation. I'm very much like him inside: surreal sense of humour and of the absurd - and knowing no bounds to it. Mischievous and childish. A fondness for jokes and messing around. It's the me that's always been bursting at the seams to come through. But you can't really do that in the 'sane' world - whatever that is. I can't help but find myself trying to inject something funny or daft into any situation. I supposed it's why I often used to get dismissed at school as a clown - and later, as someone who couldn't take life seriously. And perhaps I don't really take life that seriously. I mean... how does anyone take it seriously all the time and not go nuts?
I don't know whether any of this makes sense. I'm not properly awake yet...