The mask

Image

a mask that smiles

covering a frowning face

telling lies to hide its disgrace

it spins a false reality

 forgetting its own truth

a face on a body that lacks its soul

Soul

Honesty shining through

an uncovered life of

love, care and hope

feelings express inner beauty

spreading self for all to see

sharing the light

supporting the dark

hide no evil

keep no good

there is no mask

smothering the shine of joy

here there is truth

with the self that has soul

Trust is the foundation that relationships are built on.  Trust in the other person encourages you to believe that they are who they appear to be and will remain that person through the trials that life presents.  It helps you to show all sides of yourself without the fear of being outcast or shunned.  You trust that you are seeing the real person and not a mask that they are putting on to hide something evil.  Trusting someone else requires a trust in one's self.  You have to believe that you are capable of distinguishing who is trustworthy and who is not.  When you start caring about someone, you have to believe that it is stemming from a healthy place trusting that you know what is best for you.  I no longer trust myself and therefore don't trust anyone else.

When we are children, we love our families blindly.  Trusting that because they are the ones taking care of us, they must be looking out for our best interest.  This must be love.  This must be what it feels like to be loved and love back.  I loved people who were threatening to my physical and emotional well being.  How can I trust my heart when my heart was telling me to love such harmful people?  How can I ever believe myself again?  I loved my family, I still love my family.  I loved a person that could leave me with only a two sentence email two days before moving half way across the world.  I loved an alcoholic who told me I was a bad daughter who had betrayed her family.  I loved an abusive person who scared his wife into submission.  What does that say about my ability to love?  

After my dad left for Missouri, my mom fell into a crazed depression.  She would drink every night until she was a sobbing heap on the floor.  She would sit across from me with red swollen eyes telling me all of the horrible things my dad had said and done to her begging for my sympathy and help.  I would tell her over and over that she had been a good mom; that she was a wonderful person who deserved so much better; that she could start over without him.  As I was telling her these things, I could look right through her eyes into the soul of a person who believed the lies my dad had fed her for so many years.  She was a bad mother, she was a bad wife, she was unlovable, she didn't deserve better.  My words would never be strong enough to drown out the abusive lies she had taken on as her reality.  I couldn't fix her with my love.