Real Marriage_ The Truth About Sex, Friendship, and Life Together - Mark Driscoll [71]
To cope with the pain, I initially pretended to be a “good girl,” outwardly displaying kindness, patience, smiles, and quick apologies without true repentance. I never seemed to get angry and was constantly serving other people, making them happy, but sacrificing my own family and health. Though I seemed happy, I was emotionally shut down and disengaged at any deep levels. I had to work hard to be passionate about anything and envied women who seemed to be so naturally zealous. As a “good girl” I avoided conflict and wanted peace at all costs, even if it meant enabling a person’s sin or sinning myself so as not to offend. On the outside I was cool as a cucumber, while on the inside I was full of shame, devastation, and accusations of the Enemy.
In the first years of ministry, I also wore the mask of “religious girl” at times. After all, I had been a pastor’s kid and was expected to be a wise pastor’s wife, right? If people needed advice, I would give them a verse or a book to read, not considering how I should apply it first. If people needed help, I would serve them without question, even enabling or allowing people to use me. If people needed a meal, I would make whatever they liked, sometimes making my own kids wait longer for dinner. I steered clear of examining my own heart by staying busy with everyone else’s lives. I was moralistic and judgmental, not always verbally, building up my own pride and accomplishments. I felt better about myself when I was serving other people. I didn’t like recognition for my service, but if people didn’t seem grateful, I was bothered by it.
Another mask I had worn in high school was the “party girl.” I liked to have “fun” and numb the pain with alcohol. Some use drugs, food, or being funny all the time as party masks. They may be sarcastic or use jokes to change the subject if the mood gets too serious. Their names are associated with fun, so they are always invited to events and seem to love a crowd. Sadly, it’s the perfect place to hide and not be known as an individual.
A mask I didn’t wear, but that is common, is “tough girl.” She seems in control, confident, unaffected by the world’s pressures, and not at all needy. She often leads with making people fear her, and as a result isn’t liked by many. She pretends to embrace being alone, but inwardly wishes for relationship and closeness. Her hard exterior keeps people at arm’s length and avoids her getting hurt. She is critical and doesn’t trust people, and works hard to be the protector of others. Outside she is hard as a rock but inside is vulnerability and loneliness.
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Which mask I wore depended on whom I was with or how I was trying to protect myself. It was an identity crisis because I wasn’t rooted in Christ. I was shaped by what others had done to me and what I had done, rather than who God created me in His image to be and what His Son had done for me at the cross. Which mask(s) are you wearing to avoid dealing with the pain of life? I urge you to take off the mask by being honest and allow God to reveal His grace, mercy, and love. All these masks lead to continued hiding of our sin and the sin against us, which is equivalent to “suppress[ing] the truth in unrighteousness,” as Romans 1:18 says. He wants to clothe us in truth and His righteousness