Unlearning the Role I Played Too Well

I thought masks were for the stage. Turns out, real life had better costumes.

For years, I played my role so well I could have won awards. The “good one.” The “should” one. The one who smiled when she wanted to scream.

I told myself it was for harmony, for love, for stability. But truthfully? It was survival. And survival can look a lot like acting when you’re trying to hold a life together with sheer performance.

The thing is—masks get heavy. Pretending costs energy you could use for living. And one day, mine started to slip.

Not in a dramatic breakdown (though that would make a great script). It was quieter than that—like forgetting a line in a scene I’d rehearsed a thousand times. The pause was enough to make me wonder: What if I didn’t pick the mask back up? What if I just... stopped performing?

That question changed everything.

I wish I could say it was easy, like stepping out of costume. It wasn’t. It felt raw. It felt like grief—because letting go of a role you’ve played for years means saying goodbye to who you thought you were.

But here’s the thing: every time I put the mask down, I got a little lighter. And lighter feels a lot like freedom.

Freedom to create, not just cope. Freedom to show up as me—not the version I thought the world wanted.

If you’re exhausted, ask yourself: What roles am I playing? What’s that performance costing me? In coaching, we explore that gently—because the energy you free up when you stop pretending? That’s where possibility begins.