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Unseen Shifts Are Still Magical
Even when the transformative event is unwitnessed
Until the pandemic and ensuing lockdown, I don’t know that I was able to ever be wholly authentic. I wore masks everywhere I went: The veneer of warmth and endless patience and wisdom for some friends; A cloak of silliness and adventuring spirit for others; The camouflage of someone calm and collected who knew how to run a business while I was at work; The façade of someone happy in my 14-year marriage.
My then-husband (Was-band) even commented in passing on how he could see me sorting through and shifting the masks. I was surprised; for the six years leading up to this comment, he had been so focused on himself — his illness, his hobbies, his income, his day trading (with my 401K money) — that his awareness of me as a person and not just a body to cook and clean and take care of him shocked me.
Even my makeup was armor to protect me inside. I would dutifully apply concealer, three colors of eye shadow, eyeliner, blush, four layers of mascara, and lipstick every day — even when I had no plans to leave the house. It was as if I needed to remind myself that I couldn’t ever fully relax — that who I was at my core was not enough.
I was rewarded socially and professionally for these veils of mine. Friends and strangers flocked to my…
