by Rebecca Dorsey
A note from the author…
All my life, I’ve been told by people—especially men—that I need to smile more, that I look sad, or that I’m hard to read. It hasn’t been until recently that I’ve realized this is likely a sign of neurodivergence. This poem is an exploration of the different meanings of the word “mask.” To some, a mask is just something you wear on Halloween to look like someone who is not yourself. To neurodivergent folks, masking is a coping mechanism meant to make you look like a neurotypical person—someone that you are not. I’ve found that in response to all of the unwanted feedback about my facial expressions (or lack thereof), I now tend to overcompensate around others and try to be as expressive as possible. This is how I mask. Yet, on Halloween, when I go out to metal concerts, or exist in places where I am surrounded by similarly neurodivergent folks, I don’t feel the need to put on this mask of “normalcy.” I feel most like myself when I wear my black clothing, spiky jewelry, and heavy makeup, and when I feel like myself, I feel safe enough to take off my mask. This is a bit of an idiosyncrasy considering I feel most like myself when, to others, it appears as though I am in a costume.
“Smile, God loves you.”
“Are you okay? You looked sad.”
“Your face is so hard to read. I can never tell how you feel.”
“Oh, you’re happy about that? You sounded so bored.”
“It’s not Halloween anymore. Why don’t you take off that face mask?”
People look at me
and assume
Halloween
is my favorite holiday.
And they’re
not
wrong.
But they’re also
not
right.
I dress in black
like a murderous crow
and wear my spikes
like a crown of thorns
my chains
like the rattling of a ghost
my eyeliner
like knives that cut
not
as a costume
a disguise
a mask.
But
the
opposite.
I feel most
free
when I am
not
what others
expect me
to be.
I can only be
myself
when clothed
in an armor
of onyx and eyeshadow,
glinting metal
cuffs and collars
my Excalibur.
No one
asks
how I feel
if I’m sad
why I look
like somebody died
because
I am
not
afraid
to show
my true face.
I wear a mask
but
not
on Halloween.
Disability & Access Collective 