PLEASE HEAR WHAT I'M NOT SAYING

Personal Growth, Self Esteem, Personal Growth, Self Esteem, Self Improvement, Self Esteem, Personal Growth, Self Esteem, Personal Growth>
Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear,
For I wear a mask. I wear a thousand masks,
Masks that I am afraid to take off,
And none of them is me.
Pretending is an art
that's second nature with me;
But don't be fooled,
for God's sake don't be fooled!
I give you the impression that I'm secure,
That all is sunny and unruffled in me,
Within as well as without,
That confidence is my name
and coolness my game,
That the water's calm and I'm in command,
And that I need no one.
But don't believe me.
My surface may seem smooth,
but my surface is my mask,
My ever-varying and ever-concealing mask.
Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me,
in confusion, in fear, in aloneness.
But I hide this.
I panic at the thought
of my weakness and fear being exposed.
That is why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
A nonchalant, sophisticated facade, to help me pretend,
To shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation.
That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
If it is followed by love,
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself.
From my own self-built prison walls,
From the barriers that I so painstakingly erect,
It is the only thing that will assure me
of what I can't assure myself:
That I'm really worth something...
But I don't tell you this, I don't dare... I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by
acceptance and love.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh...
And your laugh will kill me.
I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing,
that I'm just no good,
And that you will see this and reject me.
So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
And my life becomes a front.
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing,
The superficial, phony game.
I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous, and me,
But you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand...
Even when that's the last thing I seem to want or need.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes
the blank stare of the
breathing dead...
Only you can call me into aliveness.
Each time you are kind and gentle, and encouraging,
Each time you try to understand
because you really care,
My heart begins to grow wings...
Very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings.
With your sensitivity and sympathy,
And your power of understanding,
You can breath life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me.
How you can be a creator
of the person that is me,
If you choose to.
It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach me,
the blinder I may strike back;
It's irrational, but despite
what the books say about man,
I'm irrational!
I fight against the very thing that I cry out for,
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls,
And in this lies my hope.
My only hope.
Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands,
But with gentle hands -- for a child is very sensitive.
Who am I, you may wonder?
I'm someone you know very well. . .
For I am every man or woman you meet.
Anonymous
Contributed by Scott Reeves of SPIRITUS

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since 8/1/97