The Masks We Wear

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I read this response to Robin Williams’ death this morning and it struck a nerve.

The author, also in the comedy business, discloses the dark underbelly that is often present beneath the laughs. He describes how childhood trauma or a sense of unworthiness leads to the development of an alter ago – a front man who entertains the crowd while distracting from the scared and broken child beneath.

He spoke of the yin and yang of depression and comedy. The pull of the audience and the isolation inherent in the belief that the performer is only loved for the performance.

Not for the child within who only wants to be loved.

 

The piece struck a nerve this morning. Caused my coffee to cool as I read.

I don’t fit that personality profile, although I have seen many in my personal and professional lives over the years (some of whom also tragically took their lives).

I don’t fit that profile.

But I fit another that I recognized as I read.

 

The performer is driven from a need to be loved.

I’m driven by a need to not be abandoned.

The performer learns how to entertain and draw a crowd.

I’ve learned how to be needed.

The performer struggles with depression.

I struggle with anxiety.

But we both hide behind masks.

 

In fact, to some extent, we all do.

 

The following are some of the masks and underlying causes I’ve seen. I see them in adults and I see them in my students – 13 and 14 years old. We all have the same basic needs and the same basic fears. We all try to hide them from the world and we begin to develop our own masks in childhood as we encounter stresses and learn from other’s responses to us.

These are caricatures of people. Oversimplifications. We are much more than the fears that drive us and the costumes we select to shield us.

But even though these are but a brief sketch, there is power in recognizing your own mask of choice and why you may have decided to wear it.

 

Mask – Performer or Funny Man

Behind the Mask – A sense of being unlovable

This may have the fat kid in school. Or the one who suffered abuse or neglect at the hands of his or her parents. This child felt alone and wanted nothing more than to loved and accepted. The performer found a love of sorts through making others smile. Even though inside he may have crying.

If I make you laugh, you’ll love me.

 

Mask – Worker Bee or Caregiver

Behind the Mask – A fear of being abandoned

This mask is usually picked up after a childhood event – death, divorce, desertion, or  neglect- leaves behind a fear of being abandoned at an age when adult support is needed. In order to temper the anxiety of being left again, the worker bee becomes an efficient taskmaster and the caregiver becomes a necessary nursemaid.

If you need me, you won’t leave me. 

 

Mask – Strongman or Overachiever

Behind the Mask – An insecurity of being unworthy

These are the people that grew up always being compared to others and found wanting. They internalize the message and feel that they will never measure up. They learn to overcompensate in a visible way to try to prove their worth and lessen their insecurities. Although often envied by others, they still never feel they will never make the grade.

If I work harder, I’ll meet your approval.

 

Mask – Professor or Distancer

Behind the Mask – A fear of being vulnerable

This is the person who refuses to show emotion. Who either responds with analytical perspective or indifference to any situation, even those that are emotionally charged. They are often read as cold, uncaring. But often they are soft and sensitive on the inside. So sensitive that they have learned to hide it well.

If I don’t show myself, you can’t wound me.

 

Most of us wear our masks when we feel threatened – a new situation, a large crowd, a demanding client. But most of us also feel comfortable enough to slip them off around our loved ones, revealing the fears and drives beneath.

It’s lonely living behind a mask for too long. You’re not alone yet you feel no one values you for the real you.

Only for the character you play.

It’s okay to shield your inner child sometimes.

But it’s also okay to let him out to play.

And teach him to trust that he can be loved and accepted as he is.

Fears and all.

 

 

 

Calisthenics For the Soul

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Fortitude.

Grit.

Resilience.

Or, as my husband calls it, an extra gear.

 

It doesn’t matter what you call it, it is a trait we admire in others and desire in ourselves.

We often observe the strength in others when they face adversity and claim that we are not made of the same fiber. That we would not be able to handle the same.

The truth?

 

You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice.

 

But what if you could build up your inner strength? Develop your mental toughness before it’s thrown into the ring against the lions?

What if you could do calisthenics for your soul?

 

You can.

 

You can build that extra gear, develop that thicker skin that resists every arrow and train for adversity.

And you can do it all while remaining true to yourself and leading with compassion.

 

Life can be tough.

Learn to be tougher.

 

Here’s your training manual. 

 

Secrets of Happiness

Posted on by stilllearning2b

secrets of happiness

Do Something With a Finish Line

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I was a late-in-life runner. In fact, I never managed to run a mile until after my 30th birthday. And even that took most of a month to work up to. Over the next couple years, I became a frequent (although still struggling) runner. I maxed out around 5 miles and would frequently compare myself negatively to the other (real) runners on the trails.

And then my world collapsed.

For months, I avoided the trails, afraid of passing out in the middle of the woods from lack of sleep and nutrition. Instead, I took to the treadmill, where I figured at least there would be people to attend to me if I suddenly lost consciousness. I had to start over again – my first treadmill runs were well under a mile. But still, it felt good to move even in a limited manner.

Just a few short weeks after the tsunami, a friend at work mentioned a half marathon that October (less three months away). I had never run more than 5 miles and that was several weeks prior. And I have never even considered a race of any duration. I was still in shock from the trauma of the abandonment and I was still extremely weak from the twenty pounds I shed in the those first few days.

I had no business running 13.1 miles.

And so I signed up.

 

One of the most frequent pieces of advice I give to people that are in the middle of a major life transition is to sign up for something with a finish line. It can be running. Or walking. Or biking. Or swimming. It doesn’t even necessarily have to be a physical endeavor, just something with a defined end.

 

Why do I advise adding one more challenge to an already challenging time?

Here’s why.

– Life’s transitions are messy. The end may be undefined and vague. It may be months or even years in the future. While that goal may feel impossible, a literal finish line does not. It exists at a known time and place. You can train for it. You can cross it.

– Training provides structure at a time when all you want to to is hide under the covers and disappear. It gives you a reason to get up and a reason to get out.

– Exercise is as good for the mind as it is for the body.

– The preparation and the even can be social or allow time for solitude. Both are needed in times of life stress.

– Training teaches you to become comfortable with discomfort. It has an end yet requires that you learn to accept the process.

– Challenges provide opportunity to practice tempering expectations. No matter how much you train, you cannot control the outcome. It’s a lesson in acceptance.

– Confidence comes from achievement. When you cross that finish line, you’ll have the courage and conviction to keep aiming for the finish line of your life transition.

 

I ran that half marathon on a cold, rainy day. It wasn’t fast and it wasn’t pretty. But it was perfect. Tears mixed with rain as I ran the last hundred yards to the finish line.

I still didn’t know when the finish line of my divorce would be.

But after that day, I trusted that I could make it.

Edit Your Personal Narrative

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Did you ever have one of your English papers passed back filled with red marks; edits and deletions shaping your original script into something more cohesive and descriptive? If you’re at all like me, you first reacted with a bit of defensiveness tinged with embarrassment – “I thought the paper was good.” But then, upon reading the revised essay, you begrudging admit that the revised version is better. Maybe even much better.

The external hand wielding the marking pen gives you the gift of perspective, allowing you to see the patterns in your writing and the fall-back phrases that are too often used.  The editing process removes what doesn’t better the whole and selects the best choice of similar words to express an idea.

 

Have you ever paid attention to your internal narrative, the story you tell to and about yourself? Have you ever noticed a pattern in the words you select and the phrases you repeat?

Often we unwittingly craft a negative internal narrative, repeating past injuries and berating ourselves. Spinning yarns into straightjackets that keep us bound and gagged, prisoners of ours pasts and our beliefs. We excuse others while we abuse ourselves, framing our choices as worse than they are.

 

The words we choose to say to others have influence.

The words we choose to say to ourselves have power.

 

When we repeatedly hear the same words about ourselves, we begin to believe them. Even if they aren’t true.

Pay attention to the words you use to describe yourself. Are you selecting the best term? For example, feel the difference between “depressed” and “sad.” Sure, they are technically synonyms but the connotation is vastly different. Depressed is heavy, permanent. A condition. Whereas sad says, “I feel badly right now.” It’s a mood. Ephemeral. Even if you are depressed, try renaming it as sadness in your script. Keep repeating it and you’ll start to believe it.

 

Look to see what other words or phrases you can replace –

“I shouldn’t feel that way” becomes “I feel this way right now and that’s okay.”

“I’m lonely” turns into “I’m feeling separated from others right now.”

“I’m stupid” is replaced with “I made the best decision I could in the moment and I’m learning.”

“I’m rehashing” is exchanged for “I’m processing.”

“I’m broke” is retired and “That doesn’t fit in to my personal wealth goal” is brought in to fill its place.

“I’ll never find love again” is crossed out and “I am open to receiving love again” is written in above.

“My life sucks” is modified with the phrase “right now.”

 

Edit your personal narrative to create a story of compassion. A script of forgiveness and learning and hope.

The words you choose have power.

Use that power to shape the life you want.

You’re worth it.