The Masks We Wear (and How to Take Them Off)
Halloween is just one night we get to pretend and put on a costume. Yet, for many of us, the act of masking isn’t limited to October. We may have been wearing a careful, complex mask every day for as long as we can remember.
This isn’t one we buy in a shop. It’s the subtle, exhausting performance we put on just to get through the day. Maybe it’s the polite smile we hold even when we are feeling anxious, the way we keep our hands still even though we want to fidget, or laughing along even when we don’t find something funny. We’ve learned exactly what’s expected, how to fit in when the world doesn’t make space for us.
For quiet people – especially those of us who are neurodivergent – masking can feel like the only way to move safely through a world that doesn’t always value stillness or difference. It’s a brilliant survival strategy, but it’s exhausting.
Why we wear our masks
Many of us learned early that our natural quietness made others uncomfortable. Maybe it started with people telling us to “speak up” or being told we were “too shy.” We absorbed that quiet message: The real us isn’t quite enough.
So we adjusted. Maybe we became the hyper-prepared person to avoid criticism. Maybe we nodded and agreed instead of saying what we really think. We learned to hide the parts of ourselves that felt either too much or not enough. This wasn’t weakness; it was a deeply protective instinct.
At its heart, the mask was about safety and belonging. It worked; it kept us secure in environments that lacked the patience or the vision to see us clearly. But as time goes on, the weight of that vigilance starts to settle.
When the mask gets heavy
The more you perform, the heavier the emotional cost becomes. The real you starts to blur with the act, and you might feel like you’ve lost the map back to who you are.
You might catch yourself agreeing when you don’t want to, or performing a distant version of yourself. Even when the mask helps you ‘fit in,’ it can leave you feeling more alone than ever. It helps you connect outside, but it disconnects you from your inside world.
Taking the mask off (gently)
Unmasking isn’t about ripping it off all at once. It’s a quiet, gentle practice of softening the edges and loosening the grip, one tiny moment at a time. This might not be easy at first, but it gets easier as you practice.
Perhaps it begins with one small act of honesty: asking for a pause, choosing to take some time to think before responding, or simply being honest about how you feel instead of saying what you think is expected.
You could also choose to spend time around people who make you feel safe enough to genuinely relax. This might be a quiet moment with a trusted friend, spending time with family members who accept you as you are, or engaging in activities that don’t require constant talking. Finding your safe space – whether it’s in nature, with one or two safe people, or joining a likeminded community like our Meet Ups – is key. It’s in these gentle spaces that you can relax with no pressure to perform. When we witness others beginning to unmask, that shared vulnerability is the most potent courage we can find.
This Halloween, perhaps the bravest costume you could choose is simply no mask at all.
The real you – gentle, thoughtful, sensitive, and quietly strong – is more than enough. And every time you choose to take that mask off, even just a little, you make space for someone else to do the same.
If you’d like to join one of our Meet Ups, where you are always welcome to show up exactly as you are, you can find them here: quietconnections.co.uk/meetups.
