CV19: A Mask
I’ve found an unintended upside to wearing a mask in public.
I do not feel compelled or pressured to smile. Nor to smile in uncomfortable or awkward situations. And especially to no longer force a smile when I’m frustrated or angry.
I can scowl to my heart’s content! And the shock of this, small as it is, is that I’ve learned there are times I would have scowled or sneered or frowned and I did not allow my naked face to do that. Behind the mask, the real emotions manifest themselves on my partially hidden face.
Why before this mask-wearing mandate did I smile when I was angry, frustrated, or uncomfortable? Because… safety, mostly. And social currency and ease.
A dated and possibly, hopefully, evaporating social and cultural programming taught me to get along, to not make waves, to not draw the ire of a man with my challenge to their offensive and abusive behavior. Lest I lose my job. Or risk my bliss of dancing or hiking or existing unmolested.
“Laugh it off”. “OK, ‘Mom’…” “What got your panties in a twist?” “You must be ‘on the rag’.” “Who cares what you think, fatty, we’re talking to your pretty friend here.” “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Those taunts, responses to my speaking up, were not just schoolboy slams, but said to me in workplace conference rooms and business meetings. The hurdles to climb after being labeled “difficult” or a “bitch” are exhausting, distracting.
AOC is not the only one… she speaks for millions of us who have run the gauntlet of verbal (and physical) assaults and do not fight back right away. Or say anything for decades. Because we have to be better, perfect, clean, non-threatening, and dignified in our responses.
Behind my mask I want to kick those guys in the nuts with a swift shout, and shoot them down with violent words to the middle of their heads, and rip a searing knife of prose through their cold hearts. If you could see my tight lipped scowl, or see me mouthing the silent words, you might know this. But it is obfuscated by the trained calm, impassive, disinterested look in my eyes.
Ah, the benefits of being a middle aged woman wearing a mask — being invisible is a superpower for my soul.