"Try to listen to what I have to say”

This following poem is a classic in theraputic literature. Applicable to many in psychological pain,  it expresses the hiding of true self.  It has special significance to survivors of abuse, as many internalize the conflicts of the abuse into a feeling of unhealthy shame.  Although guilty of no crime, survivors of abuse often feel a sense of responsibility for  their abuse, vaguely attributing the abuse to some flaw within themselves. One of the first steps in healing is to remove the mask that living with abuse requires you to wear.

Removing your masks with someone safe releases you from the burden of false shame. Don't be afraid to be yourself.

 --Debra Contreras

Don't be fooled by the face I show
I have 1000 masks but none of them are me.
Don't be fooled, I beg you. Don't be deceived.

Have I given you a true impression?
Confidence is my name, cool is my act.
Don't I need one?

But I don't believe it myself.
Deep down inside, in my real self, I am confused.
I fear. I am lonely.

I create my masks to hide
and to keep the real me from sight.
Just acting out this look is my rescue,
my salvation.

If you can accept this comes with me,
then perhaps you will accept my love.
This can be so, if I can get free of the wall
I have built around me.

I am also afraid for this:
that deep within myself I am not whole;
that because I am not whole at all,
you will discover this and run away from me.

So, I have made a series of masquerades,
a lot of small talk with you.
I talk all about what you already know about me,
but nothing about who is really me, nothing about
what I scream aloud inside of me.

Listen very carefully and try to hear what I am saying.
I will try to be real;
I will try to be spontaneous.
I will try to be who I am inside.

But, please will you help me.
Please extend me your hand.

Every time you are kind to me,
every time you are friendly to me,
every time you encourage me,
every time you try to understand,

then is when I know
that you really care about me.

Then my heart starts to flutter,
its wings begin to flap.

But my wings are delicate and brittle.

Yet, you are the only one who can free me-
from my shadow world of insecurity,
from the darkened prison that surrounds me-
free me, with your sensitivity
and with your sympathetic ability
to understand me.

This won't come easy for you.

The closer you come to me,
the more I blindly strike out at you.
Yet, I have listened to your songs of love.
Though I am a wretch and in a fog,
in your love lies my hope.
I beg you then, tear down this wall around me:

but do it with firm hands, and
with gentle hands:

I am every woman.
I am every man.
I am also who you are.

For this child is very sensitive.

"Who are you?" perhaps you wonder.

But I am one you know very well.