For most of my life, I’ve had this almost compulsive need to go out of my way and make myself useful to everyone. It wasn’t until I was almost 40 that I realized it came from a subconscious belief that being the smartest or most helpful person in the room was how to make friends or how I proved that I belonged. And it worked, until someone came along who could do what I did, but better, which is when I got replaced. I’d kept that persona the entire time, so people liked me ok, but they weren’t connecting with me.
 
If this sounds like you, and you are tired of pretending or masking, then today’s episode is going to show you what’s going on and the first step to dropping the mask and showing up as the real you.
 
You’re listening to This Is How You Think, the show that remodels your mindset. I’m your host Jule Kim. Let’s dive in.
 
Before we get into it, I’m gonna share this story, and you’ll see why. Once upon a time in Thailand, it’s the 1700s, there was a temple with a huge solid gold statue of Buddha. Eventually there’s an army about to invade the area so the monks covered this entire statue with plaster, stucco, and colored glass so that it would look worthless. Because back in the day, it was very common for invaders to come and loot all the treasures from religious places like this.
 
Unfortunately, the invasion happens and all of the monks are killed so the secret of the statue dies with them. And that’s how it remained for almost 200 years, covered in all that stuff. The statue eventually ends up at this fairly minor temple, which was so small they didn’t even have a building big enough for it, so they just left the statue under a tin roof for 20 years.
 
Around 1955, they finally try to move it into a new building. And during the move, the statue accidentally gets dropped, which cracks the plaster. Somebody sees gold shining through the crack. They chip away at the plaster and discover the statue is solid gold. This statue is 10 feet tall, weighs 5 and a half tons, and is worth over 250 million dollars today.
 
The reason I’m telling this story is it’s one of the most beautifully impactful stories I’ve ever heard, because we do the same thing to ourselves. We come into this world as who we are, but then over time, we start plastering to protect ourselves from judgment, from the opinions of others, with who our families and our teachers and our friends and society and culture tell us to be. 

We do it so early and so automatically that after a while, we forget there’s gold underneath. And even after the threat passes, the plaster stays.

So of course the question for me was, huh…well, what is my plaster? Or how a lot of people would put it, what’s the mask?

And for a long time, I struggled with this. I’m autistic. I don’t really have a mask. If anything, there are times when I really should exercise more caution and rein myself in, and I don’t. I’ve gotten into hot water so many times because of not having a filter when I really should. So for a long time, I was like, yeah, I don’t have a mask, what’s that??

But then this memory from high school came up.

I was on a school trip, hanging out with some people from my class that I didn’t normally talk to. I was being a little goofy and I offer a flower to one of the guys, his name is Brad. 

Brad looks at me, and says wow, I didn’t know you had it in you to be so silly. 

I’m like, what do you mean? 
He says, you’re just always so serious all the time.
I say, well, I’m not trying to be, but I guess I am.

That ends up being something I hear quite a lot from people over the years. They’ve described me as serious, intense, and smart.

And I think that last one might actually be my plaster.

My entire life, the most common word people have always used to describe me is “smart,” probably because I’ve always led with my intelligence. 

I was the kid that would help you with your homework in school. I would even let you cheat off of me on tests because that’s how I earned my place in the group. 

But I don’t think anybody ever really knew who I was. I was afraid of saying what I really thought or felt because I wasn’t allowed to do that with my own family. So why on earth would I do that at school? I mean, the few times I did, my autistic self f’d that up, so then I got double or triple servings of backlash and then shame.

I remember people would share so much of themselves, and I wouldn’t really share much in return, and then they would tell me that they felt like I was holding back, and they didn’t really know me.

So for me, much of my mask was about being intelligent and useful to people. And the problem is, when you only show people what you can do for them and never show them who you are, you’re kind of replaceable. Because they’re not connected to you, they’re connected to the mask.

But being smart is what I was taught to do. That’s what felt safe. My dad literally raised me to believe that no matter what, I had to get my education, and I had to be the smartest kid in the class, because that’s how I proved that we deserved to be there. That once people saw how smart I was, they would flock to me. That one always made me a little uneasy, because I was thinking, well they’re not really here for me. But that’s what Dad said, so that’s what I was supposed to do.

Now, some of you might have the same plaster, about being smart or competent. Or for some of you, the plaster is about being agreeable. That’s what people-pleasing is. 

Or the plaster is being comedic, the class clown. Or being the caretaker, the one who’s always helping everyone else.

The thing for you to figure out is, what is YOUR plaster?

And I think we have this because we’re all feeling some degree of, “well maybe if the plaster is really good, they’ll forgive the real me.”

Which if you think about it, it’s like saying you gotta offer these yummy sides to compensate for the main entree. You’re not realizing that the main entree kinda IS the point.

Now, it’s hard because in a lot of ways, the plaster can be useful. It can get you opportunities, or some of the things that you want.

It protects you from rejection or criticism, so it can feel like armor. But when we lean on that armor too much, it becomes a crutch. You know you’re at that point when you try to make everything a nail for your hammer. 

And that’s where it gets really tricky is if you do this for too long, the armor becomes a prison. Which sucks, because if you want to grow, you gotta learn to take the armor off.

And that’s why this is one of the scariest topics for me so far. See, most of what I’ve shared on this podcast is from a place of already having resolved things within myself, but this one I haven’t. For me, what’s lurking under the plaster or the mask is so much anger. And I’m afraid to express that anger because I was never allowed to as a kid. I’m afraid to show the moments when I’m not being smart.

And yet at the same time, I feel like a caged beast. The feeling has only gotten worse over the last several years, like I’m super restless and ready to run out into the world. I’m pretty sure that’s a sign.

So I know that if I want to move forward, there is no other choice. 

I like to remind myself that the plaster is like false advertising. We hold it in place because it’s grown to feel comfortable. I know we worry that people won’t like us if they see the real us.

But honestly it’s kind of a weird thing to worry about because I’ve seen the proof from working with hundreds of people. Of all the people in their lives, I’m most likely to see the real them. And I’ve never once thought, “yikes bring the mask back, bring it back! I liked the mask better.” That’s never happened.

So if you’re in this space now, here’s what I want to leave you with: 
What if the real you is actually what everybody is waiting for? What if they’re not looking for the smart you or the helpful you or the funny or the pretty you. Maybe..they just want you. 


Alrighty, that’s it for this week.

If you know someone who needs to hear this message, would you do me a favor and send this episode to them? I’m trying to grow this podcast, so that would really help me out.

As always, thank you so much for listening. And remember, I believe in you. See you next time.