I struggle with being left to figure out how to navigate through this journey called my life while I help others to navigate through their life. I constantly remind myself of how imperative it is to never allow “them to see you sweat” so as a result I forge ahead. Sleepless nights, long days, bags under my eyes and with minimal energy to carry on, I forge forward because I dare not reveal the stories that we as women have been forbidden to tell.
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The lies and the deceit. I attend church every Sunday and I cover up my masks with my lap scarf while singing praise and worship because that is what I have been taught to do. I display the behaviors that I have learned in life and so it is, I continue to hide behind my masks while tending to everyone else’s needs.
How in the world could I ever allow anyone to see what is behind my masks?
It is unheard of to allow the world to see me without my most prim and proper attire, my MAC makeup, the latest designer handbag, trendy red bottom shoes, and mingling in social circles that so many would love to have access to. I by far cannot afford to allow the world to see the tears that drench my pillowcase at night or hear the silent battles I have with myself about the possibility of throwing in the towel, walking away and leaving it all behind.
My masks involve the fact that, for me, good is never enough. I am often the one left to get that which has been left over. I am never satisfied and no matter how hard I try, it always seems as if my goals and dreams are so far out of reach. The masks that I hide behind have contaminated my way of thinking and has altered my way of being so much that what once was the normal standard for being, no longer exist.
The zeal I had to succeed has been sucked away because I have poured out all of my energy by concealing my truth.
The Stories Black Women Do Not Tell: Unveiling The Masks We Wear was originally published on blackdoctor.org
