Writing prompt: the masks we wear
Her mask is kind, gentle and composed. Every morning applying her make up, she soothes the creases from the night before. Each crease is an anxiety, worry, or fear. Her night time thoughts are usually not the peaceful kind. And she’s still somewhat afraid of the dark. She knows that in the morning light, with special care, no one will be the wiser. Mask in place.
Her children think she rises at dawn ready to take on the morning with spot-on energy. Her husband knows he shouldn’t talk to her until she’s showered, but waits patiently until she is rinsed and dried. Mask in place. Pep talks and prods to the kids, cheerful morning good byes to the husband.
Now what. Alone again, thoughts and worries creep up. Will she be able to keep up. Slide some lip balm on her lips, mask in place. Go to work. Again, she is a rock. Don’t worry, we’ll handle it. Don’t stress, we’ll find that file. Mask in place. She really wants to close her office door and work alone.
Sometimes, she doesn’t want to get up in the morning and apply the mask. She wants to lay in bed with her selfish, selfish thoughts; the kind of thoughts she most hates with her mask in place. She wants to do what she wants to do and only that. She wants to show the world her face, sans mask.
That just won’t do. Deep breaths. Mask in place.