The Titles We Wear

There are many titles that you're given in your life. Some are given to you.

            Girl. Sister. Daughter. Friend. Student. Learner.

And as you get older and have more experiences, you only get more titles.

            Girlfriend. Graduate. Wife. Mother. Grandmother.

I've given myself a few titles as well.

           Writer. Researcher. Family Historian. Curious. Inquisitive.

But are we simply the titles were are given and wear, by others or ourselves? Is there more to simply fitting into the mold of what people think we should be? Of what I think I should be? Is there a certain point when we strip off the titles and masks and become ourselves.?

Who is that self under all the masks of titles?

If people were to dress the same, with hair that was simple, with similar colors, with nothing to differentiate them from the person standing them to them as they walked down the street, how would we be an individual? By our actions, how we act, how they treat others, or how other treat them? Are those what make individuality take root and flourish?

Many people act like the others around them to "fit in"and not be excluded from their friends, co-workers, families, or the person next to them on the bus. I think we wear masks to fit that mold because we are scared of their own individuality.  We are scared of having a title too different from those around us. We would stick out too much like a sore thumb.

Why are we scared?

For years, I thought I didn't wear any masks or any titles but my own "Caitlyn" mask. I thought the front I showed people wasn't actually a front. Wasn't a mask. Wasn't a title. While that was partly true, I didn't have many masks to choose from, I still kept the vulnerability away. I had to be strong all the time and no one was allowed to see me cry. No matter if I was scared or sad or frustrated, no one was allowed to see that side of me. Drama ensued as boys entered the picture, as death happened in my school. We were all given more masks and titles. The happy one. The not-broken one. The runner. The cutter. We all saw the titles we'd given one another but knew that they were simply something to hide behind.

Even five years after high school ended, some of those titles have since slipped away like the circumstances that dictated them. Yet, some still hold desperately onto those titles still--"I'm still not-broken." "I'm still always happy."--even though they are all lies.

Why are we lying to ourselves still? When the lying should have been done with?

Is there any way to show our true selves? Or are we simply the titles we hold? The mask we have on in a particular moment for that circumstance?

Maybe it is up to the person. If they have so much to hide from, they put up barriers to hide behind. They have bails of hay, wooden barrels, and stone walls to cower behind. If they were to slowly take down those barriers and face their demons and doubts, can't we take some of those false masks off and put on more important ones that help us to progress toward a better life?

It would be a slow process. Finding. Confronting. Slowly breaking down the barricades.

Wouldn't this leave only the most important masks we want to wear instead of the ones we hide behind? We could face the world with purpose, with clear eyes, with a certain joy. Maybe a joy of peace.

Find the titles that you want to keep and cast away the masks that you don't. Talk with yourself. Converse. Question and look for an answer.

Then be ready to work.