Who Am I Without My Masks?

Diving below the surface of self.

Who am I when I put aside the masks that have supported me for as long as I can remember?  Who am I when all my personalities dissolve?

Sometimes, in certain situations, life invites me to simply be a girl—seeking support, asking for help, wanting to feel embraced. And there are times, around other people, that I want to be a warrior, self-sufficient, independent. I want to be seen as a grown woman. In these contrasting versions of my life, I ask myself, “Who am I, if what defines the mask I choose is the person or the moment in front of me?”

Sometimes I want to be an introvert, and sometimes I feel the need to be an extrovert. Sometimes I love that a man asks me to lunch, pays for everything, and opens the door for me, but there are times when I want to be self-sufficient, so I can invite someone out and have the financial power to say, "I will pay this time," without that meaning that I will do it always.

So who am I when I don't have a person in whom I can see my reflections, no one to influence which role I wear? Who am I, if I live in the mountains with no one to attest to my existence? What is left of me?

If we were to do only what we genuinely wanted to do at all times, it wouldn't make sense socially. Often, we would act contradictorily, and people wouldn't know how to label us anymore. The rational mind tries to understand and label the world and people, but the essence of the world, which is constant change, is unintelligible to reason. If we live accepting that everything changes and that it is useless to label life and moments, we would go crazy.

Or maybe not.  Maybe we would be enlightened.

But the mind is afraid to let go of everything it knows. To stay open to the fact that a person can be an infinite number of versions without saying, "She is like this.” “I am introverted, shy, funny, and vegan. I like nature and I like to listen to people."

And what if one day I don't want to listen to someone, and just want to be alone and in silence?  Maybe my rational mind would wonder why I don't want to listen if I'm supposed to be good at that.

Who am I if I'm not fulfilling that role in the world that I determined for myself? If I say I'm shy, but one day I step into the center of a dance circle and captivate everyone's attention, then who am I? If I say I'm vegan, but the next day I really feel like having some cheese, would that mean I'm not conscious anymore? What does doing something against my label say about me?

Does the world expect me to always be like this from now on? Am I going to disappoint them if I don't do it again next time? Who am I, if the labels that I put on myself are not kept every time?

We can observe just how intricate the simple question of “Who are you?” is. Is it definable?

We only find peace when we realize that from moment to moment, we are free to change. We have the freedom to choose in every moment, creating infinite possibilities. We are continuously swinging around all polarities. We move from one extreme to the other every day, even minute by minute. We don all ranges of masks, from darkest to lightest. And if we are open to the fact that we can be something different every day, we can enjoy it and take advantage of the versatility that being human means. But if we pigeonhole ourselves, we draw arbitrary boundaries and do not give ourselves room to grow and explore.

I can feel very connected to people because of a common interest or a similar process or compatible personalities, but the next day, maybe we no longer like the same thing, or we move on with our lives. The roles that united us no longer exist. What is left between these two souls if that external union disappears?

That essence is LOVE. Love for being alive. Love for sharing the human experience. Love that is born from the empathy of understanding another soul who is living the same adventure as us on this planet. Love of being the same and knowing it, deep down, without having to understand it with the mind.

That is what remains without the roles, and when we discover this infinite source of connection and union with the world, we give ourselves permission to be what we want to be without attachment to the masks that once helped us to move through this world. They are no longer our point of union; this source does not change whoever I am.

I can explore the world, using that wisdom that no mask defines who I am in essence. When I understand that, and when I understand the natural rules of life, life becomes infinite—because I realize that whatever mask I once chose, I can always choose again.