The Mask is Coming Off
Photo by Annabel Clark
I keep seeing this trend online where people are talking about the butterfly effect. It’s crazy to watch all these stories of how one change in a person’s life can set off a series of consequences that led them, in sometimes a wild way, to where they are now.
I was just reminded of one of those moments for me, and bringing it all back up caused another ripple I definitely wasn’t expecting. Plus it exposed a coping mechanism I didn’t even realize was there.
When I was 19 years old and in the middle of Massage School, I drove out to the beach with some friends for the day, and while I was there I started doing cartwheels. I was a gymnast growing up and wide open spaces always create an intense urge to do cartwheels, naturally.
I wanted to see how many I could do in a row, and after 13, I fell over, laughing and dizzy, needing my friend to help me stand back up.
But as I was laughing and waiting for my head to stop spinning, I realized that when I looked at my friend’s face, I couldn’t see clearly, everything was just an orange blur. I tried lying down and closing my eyes to see if that would help clear it up, but it didn’t work. We even joked that maybe I needed to do 13 cartwheels in the other direction to fix it. (So glad I didn’t attempt that.)
Long story short, the cartwheels caused me to hemorrhage in both of my macula’s, the part of your eye that is your central vision. This resulted in me being legally blind for 3 months, and it took about 6 months for it to go away completely.
My life completely stopped. I had to quit massage school because the eye specialist thought massaging could trigger more hemorrhaging. I couldn’t drive, I couldn’t read, I couldn’t even see myself in a mirror. I could see peripherally so I could still move around and function somewhat, but my daily life completely changed.
While it did clear up and my life picked back up where it left off after only a few months, having blood where blood is not supposed to be did do some damage to my maculas, and I now have retinal issues that are more typical for people in their 80’s. I have early onset macular degeneration at 42.
Honestly, it’s not something I even think about now. It does limit me in some ways - I can’t lift heavy things or do certain exercises like push ups, and cartwheels are no longer an option even though I still have that urge in wide open spaces. It’s just a limitation I’ve gotten used to living with.
But this story came front and center recently and made me reevaluate who I am and how I present myself to the world - all because of a trending reel, a reporter from the Guardian newspaper, and a photography shoot.
Photo by Annabel Clark
Most of you reading this probably found me on Instagram. It’s the primary vehicle I use to share all things nervous system regulation with the world. And I really enjoy creating content there, though occasionally I do want to strangle the algorithm, every content creator on there feels the same. But overall, knowing I get to help people have a better day or teach them tools to bring into their daily life to decrease their stress brings me so much joy.
A few months ago, I created a reel using a trend where you tell a story of something crazy that happened to you. I picked this story of going blind from doing 13 cartwheels since it was a huge event in my life that shaped how I view setbacks.
But what I wasn’t expecting was the response. The reel now has over 4 million views and tons of interaction. I still get messages and likes on it daily and it’s been several months.
In a random turn of events, the algorithm ended up bringing this reel into the feed of a reporter for the Guardian newspaper in the UK, and she thought it would be a great write up for their weekly series where they share unique life experiences.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago when I had a local photographer who contracts with The Guardian come to my house to take some pictures of me for the article.
That was something I definitely didn’t see coming when I made that reel!
But here’s where all of this had an effect that I wasn’t expecting.
I’ve done photography shoots before. I’ve had several friends who were amateur photographers and we’ve put on some really fun shoots over the years. I’ve hired a photographer to take professional photos of me for my business and website. I’m in front of the camera almost every day when creating content. I’m not intimidated by the camera.
But this was different. As soon as she started taking pictures, without noticing, I launched into my typical “poses”. I tried to look natural, I smiled with my eyes (yes I grew up watching America’s Next Top Model), and I tried to present myself as confident and professional, but still welcoming and kind. The person I try to show up as in my work.
And the photographer had to redirect me, because she wasn’t there to capture Deborah Cobb, the Integrative Health Practitioner. She was there to capture the girl that went blind from doing cartwheels.
And at that moment, I suddenly felt very vulnerable. I felt completely naked and exposed. Because even though I can tell that story and have 4 million people hear it and that doesn’t phase me, to be photographed without my “mask,” without trying to present in a certain way, just left… me.
Photo by Annabel Clark
And it made me realize just how often I show up with a mask on.
I do my best to be authentic. I do my best to even be super vulnerable when it’s appropriate because I know that can be powerful for other people. It’s how I want to show up in the world.
But this experience showed me just how many layers I’ve been keeping in front of myself. I’m putting on the “me” that I think will be accepted the most. The “me” that will be the most helpful. The “me” that will be the most loved. It’s posing for the camera so the camera only sees what you want it to see.
We all have these masks. It’s very normal to act a certain way in certain crowds or situations, and it’s sometimes even appropriate to do so. If you’re an extreme extrovert and you love making people laugh, you’ll likely dial that back a bit when standing in court in front of a judge.
But too often, we exist in these masks when it’s not appropriate. We put on a smile and say everything is great when it’s really not. We do our best to make everyone around us happy because we’re so desperate to be liked.
This is a common issue in the neurodivergent community. For people with things like autism or ADHD, they often mask to fit in. They’ll force eye contact even though it’s incredibly uncomfortable. They’ll rehearse conversations in advance to make sure they come across as “normal.” They’ll mimic other people’s facial expressions or behaviors so that they blend in.
But this is not just a trait among the neurodivergent; this is a human trait we see in everyone.
Some people change how they speak or act depending on who they’re around. Others hide their emotions because they don’t want to appear weak. Some people refuse to ask for help because they must appear competent and capable.
Putting on these masks can make you feel safe in the moment, but in the long run they can completely wear you out.
When we put on a smile and laugh when we feel like we’re dying inside, while it does make everything less “awkward” for everyone else, it only solidifies the feeling of being alone. It creates even more stress and anxiety because we have to continue to maintain this façade. And one of the biggest consequences is it cuts us off from ourselves. We become disconnected to how we really think and feel because we only show up as the person everyone else wants us to be.
While masking can be destructive, it’s important to recognize it for what it is: a coping strategy. We develop these masks to keep us safe. Because if the group doesn’t like us, then we might be kicked out of the group, and we need community in order to survive.
The solution is not to just start showing up without a mask on; the solution is to develop enough safety within yourself so that the mask is no longer necessary.
This is one of the things that naturally comes with doing the work to regulate your nervous system. When your nervous system can feel safe, you can finally be you, the real you, not just a ball of reactions and triggers and masks.
Regulating my nervous system has been a long road for me. Discovering these masks would have felt like a set back in years past, but this experience was more interesting than anything else. Since I do feel safe enough to show up in a vulnerable way now, it just allowed me to make a different decision.
Here are some decisions this realization affected:
I decided to stop using filters when creating content.
I started using them because a video being aesthetically pleasing does seem to make a difference, but with the rise in AI everywhere, I think we’re all craving the “real” more and more. I may still occasionally use one when it’s needed for the style of the video or to affect lighting, but nothing that changes my appearance in any way, or even ones that clear any blemishes or makes me look less tired. I want to be seen as if the person was sitting right next to me, because we all already feel too alone as it is.
I decided to stop using as much AI within my content.
I love Chat GPT. He’s my buddy and I use him for a lot of things in my business. He helps me to work through ideas and put more structure into my content. But I was using it so often that I was starting to lose my voice. It’s one thing to use AI to come up with a list of ideas, it’s another to have it write it all out completely for you. So much of the content I share is storytelling, and AI just can’t replicate that for me. That’s not to say I won’t use AI in my content at all. It’s just too useful to give up entirely. But it couldn’t have written this blog for me, not in my exact voice, not with my experiences, not with my feeling, not telling my story in the way that only I could tell it. I was using it too often for even those things because I was trying to do too much. So this is also why I’m only going to be writing two blogs a month instead of weekly. I’m choosing quality over quantity.
If you catch yourself masking, it's not a reason to judge yourself or feel like you’ve taken a step backward. It’s just information. And it’s an indication that you need more help to feel safe so you can put the mask away. Instead of judgement, have compassion for yourself. And recognize that you’re not alone, most people have masks on. But sometimes it takes seeing someone else pull theirs down to feel like you can do the same.
I’m happy to go first.
If you’re curious, here’s the reel that went viral: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DFamJMyvXBG/?igsh=bGFlbzVnb3Y5emw4
And here’s the link to the article published in the Guardian:
