What does it feel like to take your mask off?

When do you take your mask off?

4th grade- let me take you to a specific moment:

I remember coming home that afternoon and going straight to my room. I had just been humiliated in front of my entire class. Everyone knew I was going to Japan for a while, so when my teacher asked me, “What are you most excited about?” I had my answer ready—until one of my classmates blurted out, “Hopefully losing weight.”

The room erupted in laughter. My excitement and words disappeared, replaced by a nervous smile. I played along, mumbling something like, “Yeah, what he said,” but it wasn’t true. Not even close.

I was excited about the adventure: writing stories, learning a new culture, connecting with people, and just being on a plane over the seas. But instead of sharing my joy, I let the comment overshadow it. I laughed because I didn’t know what else to do.

When I got home, my mom was busy packing, so I didn’t say anything. I went straight to my corner, opened my heart-shaped diary, and cried. I kept asking myself: Why wasn’t the trip good enough to make me accepted? Why was my weight always the focus? And why did I just go along with it?

I was too young to process these feelings, so I stayed quiet. I believed telling my mom would just make her angry or frustrated. That’s where it started—the need to blend in, to be easy, to not rock the boat.

Have you been there? Have you ever felt like people weren’t there for you when you needed them, but maybe it was because you assumed how they’d react?

Now that I’m an adult, I’m starting to notice those old habits creeping back. It’s hard to heal from emotional wounds when you’ve spent years avoiding them. Sometimes I think back and realize, Well, my reaction made sense for the environment I was in. But now?

These days, I want to let people in, but I wrestle with fear. What if the care doesn’t last? What if I end up embarrassed again? But then I think—What if I lean into community and let myself be surprised?

If childhood thoughts ever pull you back, I want to share a few things that help me navigate them:

1. Make time for quiet reflection. Just five minutes a day to sit with your feelings before they become overwhelming.

2. Go outside. Even when I don’t feel like it, walking or sitting in nature helps. Sometimes the tears come, and I let them.

3. Use tools that remind you it’s okay to feel. I’ve been using the MindTide app—it helps me remember my emotions are valid, and it’s okay to release them.

That’s it for now. It’s so easy to put on a mask, but I’m inviting you to take it off—especially when you’re with yourself.

From a park with love,

Teisha

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