I walk around the crowded store following the arrows that dictate my path. If people are smiling around me, I cannot tell. The cloth masks we wear to protect against COVID-19 obscure our faces.
As soon as it is safe outside, I rip the facial mask off. I take a deep breath and feel instant relief. My state requires facial coverings while out in public, and I am not sure that I will ever get accustomed to them. But there are some invisible masks I am more than comfortable wearing.
Most days, I wear the “I’m fine” mask. This is such a common accessory for me that I no longer notice when I am wearing it. It is a mask that I have used for years to protect myself and keep people at a distance. Through countless situations in motherhood, “I’m fine,” has been my mantra.
When a challenging behavior happens in public with my daughter with special and medical needs, my “I’m fine” mask feels like it is going to slip off. Watchful eyes around me assess our predicament while I try to manage the behaviors. There is a nervous laugh and fake smile to go with my mask in these situations. I tell myself that everything is under control even though it is clearly not. The “I’m fine” mask is worn just as much for me as it is for other people.
When asked how I am, “I’m fine” is often the response I give to people. I assume most people do not want to know the nitty gritty of our daily struggles. I refrain from telling others about my panicky moments and the heartaches in medical emergencies. There are times when the mask slips off, and I share my heart with someone. The results of these genuine conversations are mixed. The bad experiences make me want to put my mask back on and never remove it again.
Photo credit: Vera Davidova on Unsplash.com.
Sometimes, I wear the mask so well I convince myself that things are fine. The mask has me ignore obvious facts and signs that I am struggling with, as a tired mom. My coping mechanism has certainly been to rely on this mask. With it, I do not have to look at the hard things. I push down the emotions and anxiety that I am really feeling. Instead, I roll on with the idea that everything in my world is fine, and I am handling it all well.
The mask does come off some days because it is not needed. There are plenty of easy days that are carefree and mundane. Things are truly fine, and I can feel a difference in my attitude, energy level, and emotions. These days are great, and I am grateful for them.
What sort of relief may come from taking this mask off permanently? I wonder if I could feel an immediate difference if I could only admit that things were not fine. Hard, tough, scary, frustrating, and sad moments happen in motherhood. I am not superhuman or a robot. I feel it all. When I deny this truth, the mask that I wear is really hurting me more than protecting me.
I hope to notice when the “I’m fine” mask is worn inappropriately. I pray I can find the strength to take it off and see what is really going on with me. It will take bravery to remove the mask, but it will be healthier for everyone.
Evana is a wife and mother of two children. Since becoming a parent, Evana has spent many hours driving to specialty appointments, praying beside a hospital bed, and learning about her children’s diagnoses. Evana is also a pediatric speech-language pathologist and serves children with autism, feeding disorders, and other developmental delays. You can connect with Evana on Twitter, Facebook, and her blog, A Special Purposed Life. You can also read more about her family’s story in her book, Badges of Motherhood: One Mother’s Story about Family, Down syndrome, Hospitals, and Faith.
