Masquerade Ball

It seems like most people are wearing some sort of mask. I've counted four distinct types: stoicism, overly friendly, arrogant, and doesn't care what others think. I know I used to try out a few of these. Once in a while, I still catch myself doing it. My particular mask of choice was one of stoicism. I did a poor job of hiding my emotions in my eyes, and there were times where I dropped the mask when I wanted pity, but most of the time, my face was blank and emotionless. Few smiles, a little bit of laughter, not too many frowns, just a straight face, hiding everything going on behind the scenes.

And there was quite a bit going on behind the scenes. It wasn't even the bad stuff that I was trying to keep in, though God knows there was enough going on with my mother, the rest of my family, and myself. It was the good stuff, too. It was all the happiness I got from being around my friends, all the respect and love I felt for them, but never wanted to show.

My decision to hide it all wasn't completely subconscious, either. Most of it was, but part of it was my showing nothing intentionally because I didn't want to be vulnerable. If you show emotion, others know where they can hurt you. The subconscious part followed the same logic, and probably went back to the divorce and how kids treated me (much of which I deserved) in school. I learned that if you care about someone, that person can use it against you. If you are happy, there's usually someone who wants to see you less happy. If you're nervous or scared, people will pick on you for it. Anger brought solitude and sadness brought pity, so I used both of those to control the level of attention I wanted at the time.

And when I felt ok, the stoic mask went on. I made few people feel warm and happy and came across as an automaton, a cold-hearted thinker who would do whatever was logical. I had honor, but it was honor without love or pity.

There were people who told me I seemed arrogant and a few who told me they thought I was confident when they first met me, but it was a mask to hide my utter lack of self-confidence. It wasn't that I had my emotions under control and didn't let them rule me - that would have been a good thing - it was that I was hiding everything and bottling it up until I'd explode.

This is the first mask of false self-confidence. Mine wasn't even a very good mask, but it was the one I knew best how to put on. If you know someone who is not very emotional, they may have self-confidence, but if they are always stoic, it is more likely they are hiding their emotions. True self-confidence can control emotions, but doesn't hide them. True self-confidence can be openly passionate and compassionate. It can let others know that you like them.

And it doesn't keep silent when something needs to be said.

If you know a stoic person, see whether that person is always stoic and never passionate about anything. Does that person speak up when something needs to be said? Do they have compassion on others? Do they let anyone in to what's going on behind the scenes? If the answer to these is no, that person isn't truly confident. You cannot know who you are in Christ and still be dispassionate about it. You won't remain silent out of fear of what others will think. You'll have compassion because He had compassion on you. And you won't keep others out because of fear that they may hurt you because you'll know where your value really comes from.