My Fake Smile Became a Mask

Reflecting optimism

I hear my husband walk in and gently nudge me awake. He doesn’t know it but I’ve been awake since I heard him start the coffee. I feel the weight of his body compressing the mattress behind me. With an effort that feels like slogging through quicksand, I roll over and pry my eyes open. I’m not ready to wake up yet. I can’t bear to get out of bed yet. There is nothing awaiting me outside of the warmth of this bed and the mindless comfort of sleep. Nothing but more dread of what this new day will bring.

But, when I see his expectant and loving smile I force myself to reflect his optimism for a new day. The muscle at the top corner of my left mandible contracts in reaction to his face. It’s a forced grin that doesn’t reach my eyes. At the same time I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth together. I have employed my shield against the world and entrapped my most carnal emotions. In essence, my fake smile became a mask.

Suffering behind a mask

As a child, I remember vividly my father chiding me to turn my frown upside-down, warning me that if I kept frowning my face would get stuck that way. Whether I was crying due to an injury or sad over some emotional hurt, it was ingrained in me from a very young age to hide my true feelings. There was a hidden message that I needed to either ignore my pain or rush through the grieving process. Furthermore, I was taught to suffer quietly and alone in order to shield others from my true pain and/or discomfort. As the saying goes, I learned to grin and bear it.

Smile as a coping mechanism

In my late-twenties, I recall my boss and co-workers often commenting on how I was always smiling. It wasn’t until recently that I began to reflect on those words. Was I really so happy that I couldn’t help but exhibit this inner satisfaction with life through a constant smile? The truth is, I was suffering greatly on the inside, both emotionally and physically. That smile was covering up any number of ailments, ranging from exhaustion to excruciating pain.

For years I walked around wearing this mask. Like the mask of a grinning clown devoid of eyes. When you see it, the juxtaposition of a giant grin on a face with no eyes is eerily unsettling. Halfway through my battle I realized I had stopped looking at myself in the mirror, frightened of the emptiness reflected back at me. The juxtaposition of what I saw was more than I could stand. Smiling had become a coping mechanism for the hopelessness and dread that had wrapped itself around me.

Simultaneously shielding me and entrapping me

Over time, the expression on my face had become a replication of what I thought the world expected of me, rather than a reflection of my own emotions. An artifice that was meant to shield me had ultimately entrapped me. Frozen as it was in this permanent grin, I became disembodied from my experience. I was running away from myself instead of embracing myself. Instead of loving the warrior in me through the suffering, I turned a cold shoulder of denial. In my pursuit to please others, I abandoned myself when I needed myself the most. As a result, I never actually processed those feelings.

In some way, I thought I was protecting myself as well. Not simply projecting a façade of strength but actually believing that that smile would protect me. Maybe that fake smile helped in some small way but ultimately it entrapped me in its stead. After all, a façade isn’t real. It is just a blanket draped over something we don’t want to see. Putting up a façade doesn’t change what’s underneath, it merely covers it up.

Breaking the cycle

I thought my mask was shielding me but really it was simply obscuring reality. In a society that shames men and women for showing emotion, albeit for different reasons, we have become desensitized and uncomfortable with emotion. I wish now that I had been open and honest with myself and my loved ones. I am learning as I grow to listen to myself and be with myself, instead of running away from myself.

It is proving difficult to re-train my face and my mind. I really didn’t realize I was wearing a mask until a few years after remission. I began having discomfort in my jaw and it dawned on me that I was still wearing it. Almost two years later I am still working to break the habit. I realize now that all I was doing was covering up depression, anxiety and fear. Through meditation I am working to return to that warrior and hug her, allowing me to process those feelings that I hid from for so long.

Don’t smile for the world, smile for yourself

My husband and I took a walk in the park today with our beagle Oliver. We agreed to walk quietly in pursuit of nature meditation. The sky above us was heavy with every shade of grey and the realm in which we walked was vibrant with multiple hues of green. The air was heavy with the expectation of rain but still cool in the waning days of spring. As we walked I reminded myself to relax my permanent grin, instead allowing myself to simply take in the beauty surrounding us.

Nature meditation

Towards the end of our nature walk, in expectation of its conclusion, Ollie stops suddenly and sprawls out in the grass. It’s as though he innately sensed from our demeanor that we were about to reach our car and head back home. I looked at him and a huge smile spread across my face. I looked back at Will and he was smiling too causing my face to beam even brighter. That shared moment of joy over our dogs stubbornness to remain in the pleasures of the outdoors caused a truly unique smile. The type of smile I’m seeking out in replacement of my forced permanent grin.

Honor your true emotions

I know that battling Lyme disease may very well be the most trying time of your life. It is tempting in the midst of all that pain and suffering, uncertainty and hopelessness, to don a mask, both as a shield for yourself and the world. But I urge you to allow yourself to feel the multitude of emotions that surround your days.

It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, lonely, discouraged, vulnerable, hopeless, heartbroken and angry. All of these emotions, and more, are legitimate. In fact, I encourage you to look up the definitions of these words and become intimate with them. Understanding how you’re feeling, and having a name for it, is the first step towards connection with yourself. Maintaining a healthy relationship with yourself will be critical in your healing process. Especially on those particularly difficult days, dig deep and question how you’re feeling. Then, allow your face to reflect that. Wearing a mask won’t actually change how you’re feeling. And, if the people you’re wearing it for can’t handle your true emotions, they’re not worth having around.