Masking

Since 2020, I have been among the people who have worn masks to prevent the spread of COVID-19. Every flight. Every grocery trip. Every theater. I won’t say it has been easy. It sometimes feels as though I am living in a separate world while simultaneously watching the main world swirl around me. Caught between worlds, I must exist in both, constantly weighing the benefits of having the mask on or choosing, just for the moment, to take the risk of exposure.

Since I can remember, I have worn masks of a different type. As I grew and gained a more full understanding of who I am, I put them on so that I could feel accepted. It felt as though I was living in a separate world while simultaneously watching the other swirl around me. Caught between worlds, I decided to stop existing in both and choose my own, no longer weighing the benefits of having the masks on or choosing, at that moment to be my full self.

Earlier this month, I finally decided to tell my parents I am queer. I have spent over a decade trying to figure out my “word”. (Bi? Polysexual?) Once I did, I weighed the importance of “coming out” and it never felt that important. The people who love me, my chosen family my friends, didn’t care. Straight people don’t have to come out. Still, over time, I wanted to know how, when faced with maskless me, my family would react.

It went about as well as one could expect. I am still dealing with the fallout, an ever-widening gap between my mother and me. Me, carrying a lifetime’s worth of hurt feelings and her, unwilling to accept accountability for her shortcomings, unmoved by my tears, lacking the empathy I would have hoped she’d have. My father, on the other hand, has been a different story. After a fair amount of explaining what queer even is, he seemed to fall on the side of “I don’t agree, but you’re my kid and have been keeping this to yourself and that must have been difficult”. A surprising reaction, to say the least.

The past few years of my life, I have spent hours in therapy gaining the courage to just be myself. To laugh from my belly. To sing out loud. To speak my mind. To remove the masks. I have finally made it to the other side at an ironic time. The pandemic gave me time to separate myself with less guilt. I chose to be safe via isolation. As time passed, I learned so many things about myself. I unearthed my natural speaking voice, deeper than the one I had adopted to not be seen as attitudinal or rude. I found a new spiritual path that resonates more deeply than the one I was raised in ever did. When all I had was myself, I came to my rescue. I removed the figurative masks while adopting the real ones more thoroughly.

So, at last, here I am. Being myself, and being bold enough to draw boundaries that say “If you cannot accept me, then you cannot be here,” with the same boldness I say “If you are sick, STAY HOME.” Would it be easier to go with the status quo? Yes. Could I go along to get along? Yes. I don’t want to be at odds with society or my family. In 2024, I am choosing to believe that both can catch up to where I am. If not, well….everybody can’t come anyway.

Happy New Year, y’all.