For a long time, I didn’t want to stand out.
I wanted to blend into the background. To disappear into the scenery. I believed that if I stayed unnoticed, no one would see what I was so certain was true about me—that I wasn’t worthy, wasn’t good enough, didn’t belong.
So I learned how to hide in plain sight.
That might sound strange given the profession I chose, but acting became the perfect disguise. I could hide behind characters. Behind scripts. Behind versions of myself that felt safer than the truth. And in that way, I wasn’t so different from anyone else. We all learn to play roles. To adapt. To become what we think is acceptable so questions aren’t asked and attention doesn’t linger too long.
When the risk of being singled out feels dangerous, we camouflage ourselves and hope we’re forgotten.
The Masks We Wear to Avoid Being Seen
Some of us don’t just blend in—we carefully construct a persona.
A version of ourselves that feels more likable. More acceptable. Less risky. We hope that if the persona is convincing enough, the real us will disappear completely.
For me, this created a quiet kind of torment.
I didn’t want to stand out, yet I desperately wanted to be liked. I wanted the version of myself I had created to be noticed and validated, while the real me stayed hidden.
It was an impossible contradiction.
A game I could never win.
The more masks I wore, the more disconnected I became. I had been playing different roles for so long that I no longer knew who I was underneath them all.
When Hiding Becomes Survival
As my mental illness took hold, the desire to disappear grew stronger.
I felt like life was moving forward without me. Like everyone else was advancing while I stayed stuck, running from a darkness that never stopped chasing me. When it caught up, it dragged me backward again.
I didn’t want anyone to see that.
So I hid.
I hid the fear.
I hid the despair.
I hid the exhaustion of pretending I was okay.
My illness told me I was forgettable. That I didn’t matter. That if I were gone, no one would even notice.
And the most dangerous part?
I believed it.
Letting the Light In Changed Everything
Everything shifted the moment I told a trusted friend the truth.
For the first time, I stopped hiding. I let the masks fall away. I let the light in.
What was revealed wasn’t polished or put together. It was broken. Lost. Empty. Afraid.
And instead of being judged or rejected, I was met with compassion.
No one hurt me.
No one shamed me.
No one turned away.
I was met with encouragement, hope, and love.
Standing there in my vulnerability was terrifying—but for the first time in my life, I was fully myself. No roles. No performance. No pretending.
And it felt like relief.
Pretending Is Exhausting and It Keeps Us Sick
Pretending takes work.
It requires constant vigilance. Constant fear of being “found out.” Constant self-monitoring to make sure the mask doesn’t slip.
And the truth is, pretending doesn’t protect us—it slowly erodes us.
It keeps us disconnected.
It keeps us anxious.
It keeps us stuck in survival mode.
For me, pretending kept me sick. And I was getting sicker.
Healing didn’t come from becoming someone else. It came from finally allowing myself to be who I was—without apology.
Learning You Are Enough As You Are
It took time to build self-love. To learn self-respect. To reach a place where I no longer felt the need to hide.
But I made it there.
Today, I know this: whatever my best self looks like in any given moment is enough. If I fall or make a mistake, I can repair, learn, and try again—as long as I stay true to myself.
I no longer want to be forgotten.
I want to be of service.
I want to help.
I want to share my story.
Not for approval. Not for validation. But because it’s my truth—and there is nothing to be ashamed of in that.
I own my story.
I own my truth.
And when I walk in that honesty, I know I am exactly where I’m meant to be.
That is what I want to be remembered for.
You Were Never Meant to Disappear
If you’ve spent your life trying to stay hidden, hear this:
You don’t deserve to be forgotten.
You don’t need to erase yourself to be accepted.
You don’t need a mask to be worthy.
The world doesn’t need a more palatable version of you.
It needs you.
Your real voice.
Your real heart.
Your real presence.
That is who we remember.
SLAY Reflection
Let’s reflect, SLAYER:
S: In what ways do you hide or minimize yourself in your daily life?
L: What part of you feels “unacceptable,” and where did that belief come from?
A: What would it look like to remove one mask and show up more honestly?
Y: If you stopped trying to be forgotten, who could you allow yourself to become?
Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever tried to disappear to protect yourself—and what helped you start showing up again?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.
And if you know someone who’s hiding because they don’t feel worthy of being seen, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.
