It was like my life was a costume party. I was always putting on a new mask, playing different roles. The costume changes grew closer as the years went on. It started out every year then grew into every 3 months, soon they seemed to occur within each day. I could be one person one moment and then switch personalities the next. Some may call this adaptability, I call this lost.

Every path has a price, mine resulted in losing something very precious… myself.

I lost myself in a sea of people-pleasing and insecurities. I no longer knew who I was, I no longer knew what I wanted. This all became dependent on what the people around me thought. I lost dreams, I lost passions.

They did not know me. How could they?

When realizing this I desperately clung to any identity I could. I created a fake me from the mistakes of my past. But my identity became obscured. There were too many opinions, too many masks, how could I stick to one? I only confused myself and anyone close to me. I could feel the exhaustion I caused others. Thoughts of disgust and self hatred began to pile up. I disregarded anything good said about me by other people, they did not know me. How could they?

It was like my life was a costume party. Until my mask was ripped off. I cannot lie and say He was gentle, but I also cannot say He did not give me plenty of warning.

The night was bitterly cold, but my room was colder. An aroma of darkness was planted there. I searched my symbolic closet for the mask of the night, only to find it empty. Nothing. I had nothing and I was too exhausted to go searching. He had torn them all away from me. He had taken everything that I had classified as myself. Broken, I fell to my knees. Raw, vulnerable, open, exposed. My charred insides were showing and I had nothing to cloak over them. My scarred and burned face had no mask to disguise it. My past, my mistakes had been forgotten, they had been forgiven. Still broken, I collapse in the arms of my Savior.

As each mask fell away, new features of my own were revealed

If you thought that was the end, you are wrong. I continued on with life, and He continued ripping fake identities away from me. I became alone. Friends, habits, excuses were poof! Gone. I relied fully on the Maker. As each mask fell away new features of my own were revealed. First the structure, then the details. I am still learning, I am still developing. I forget sometimes. I try to erase progress, but they are childlike attempts. I am written in ink. Nothing can undo what is being done. I am finding my identity in something much bigger than all of us. For finally, my costume party is over.



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