The Mask that I Wear

The reality is you are always going to be somebody’s fuel to their own dumpster fire. Misery loves company and it is easiest to prey on another’s insecurities then to acknowledge your own. What do we talk most about? The joy we remember or the pain that we endured. More of us can relate to pain as we it is a lot easier to dish then it is to sell somebody how much you care. As infinite beings with an infinite ability to love all those around us we still find it easier to breed this cesspool of negativity and hate that way at least for the moment we are all on level playing field. That is to me at least what it begins to feel like the more involved you get with your own life.

We are these beings that on one hand we speak that once our lives are back on track and things feel stable for the moment now it is safe to take risks again. We preach about how happiness means everything but when it stands in front of us our fear freezes us in time so we have no choice but wait for the moment to turn to dust.  I created this image, this persona where nothing can ever really penetrate me deep within my soul. Can you imagine a time when I thought eyeliner was to overdone and I wouldn’t do a thing on my brows. I realized though through beauty school and of course my Work at Sephora that we could transform ourselves into pieces of art. We could paint up our faces in any colours and designs that made us feel complete. Make-up in the morning is my free time to create a masterpiece. Every morning I transform my face into a piece of art. It is my mask for the day. It stops all the hateful comments from penetrating my soul because they in fact are only reacting to the image of me that I allow them to say.

That mask saves me time and time again. It gives me courage to face another day and sometimes it actually helps me hold back tears. I know that if I allow the damn to break while out in public that people will think less of me. We prey on the weak and do everything in our power to destroy those that are trying hard to save us. The idea that we are hated for what we look like and not actually who we are is a theory I test on a regular basis. Some people’s true intentions come out only after they have reduced you to a crumbled mess on the floor. There are only a few select few I will bear my whole soul too. I hope they know who they are but there is a chance that they don’t actually realize how valuable they are to you in this life. I have to believe that what ever attracted you into the relationship you have now will manifest and unfold in the nature that maybe. For now though to the outside World I will have to keep the mask on just a while longer.

It’s incredible the transformation that occurs when one applies make up. I don’t do it to “look better”. I do it to feel whole. I am not trying to hide who I really am. I just try to hide from those that I know are just waiting in the background to take me down. Yesterday I was called old, fat and ugly. Yes I am getting on in years. I am thankful for that opportunity. My journey has never taken me to a place that I regret getting or looking old. It is a badge of honour I am so gracious to receive. There are so many other fabulous beings that don’t get to stand with us today. My theory is that I am strong enough to stand up for my life and make it count because some of my greatest loves don’t get that chance. Who am I to be selfish and believe that I am worthy of anything more. This right here is the greatest gift and I will always put myself out there. Of course I don’t want to feel my heart break ever again but I will welcome it with open arms and all that is holy because at least that pain reminds me I am alive. Am I fat? Well sure I have extra pounds. My mind just can’t get wrapped around the vanity pool of hours on the treadmill and lifting weights or doing circuits. My life is filled with ton of life. We play, we laugh, we love. I am a part of his life from the time he gets up to the time he rests his head on the pillow beside me. Yes I get it we all need our “me” time. Somehow though everything inside of me tells me to be present in this time with him. There is absolutely no other place that can ever compare to cooking my son lunch and playing dinosaurs. Until you hear the words of your son call mommy please don’t judge me about my extra ten pounds. I am fine. I am healthy. I go on regular checkups. Trust me. I want to be around for as much as his life as I possibly can.

Now that vile word, Ugly. The idea that somebody for whatever reason starts to throw hate in a direction so that it lands speaks volume to your character. Why try to destroy the esteem of a being that’s purpose in this time is to be a loving friend with open arms and ears. What makes me ugly? The selfless way I get up and take care of my household and pets. I bet I spend more time on my feet then the average joe. Ask my company when they visit. I am always scurrying around trying to chase that Unicorn, the one where my house is spotless from head to toe. I am sure it doesn’t exist. Not anyways but that is my life. I volunteer with groups that make a different in my community and I always look for new ways to have my voice heard. I don’t sit on the sidelines. I am an active participant in my community and life. It is not enough to want to be the change I actually am the change. So what is it that makes me ugly to you? My blue unconventional hair? It reminds me when I get up that life is hard and everybody hurts so I wake up with purpose trying to combat the bluez that have taken a hold of us. Is it the way I dress or obsessed with accessorizing? Yes I get it. It can be strange to see. But I am consistent. What you see is what you get and I play the role of a character. My name is Sweet Ruby Bluez. Sweet because we all need to be reminded that it is better to be soft spoken and coy then to be loud and obnoxious (we all have our triggers where we get to unleash the beast). Ruby as a respect to who I used to be. And Bluez because I was tired of how awful we were all being to each other so I wanted to acknowledge. My decade of mourning for the World we let slip by.

And then there is the mask. The mask I adorn when I am ready to make a difference in the World. No matter what is said when my liner is winged and fierce it doesn’t penetrate my soul. No Words or action can every penetrate what I have grown accustomed to to keep the World at bay. I can be as open and carefree as I like as her. The only thing that matters is those that are not living their true potential. That together we can work towards the light that will save us all. A mask can only be worn for so long before it cracks and breaks. For now I hope that it will shield me long enough to get me to the next chapter of my life. This mask has saved me but I don’t know for how long. The piece that is missing is the piece I have worked relentlessly to keep at bay. That spark, that life that one receives when looking in the windows of another’s soul. The look that tells you everything you need to know in that one second. The one that looks past all the smoke and mirrors and can see you for all that you are and doesn’t recoil in horror. That look can penetrate through any mask. I will spend the rest of my life wondering question if I will ever share that look with another being again. Until that time though I will bask in my sweet sorrow knowing that we have become accustomed to living in a cruel World instead of truly trying to fit in.

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