She.

She looks great. Smiling. Goes out with the girls. Talks about needing to lose a little weight. Maybe she is single or is married, maybe a couple of kids. Maybe she has her own career outside of being a mom, maybe not. She’s in organizations that help others. She looks like she’s got it all together.

However she can totally fake it. She can smile and laugh, she can act like everyone else, even while she is in excruciating emotional pain. She acts like everything is fine because she doesn’t confide in anyone. She is the Queen of Pretense.

If she did not pretend, she would have to admit she is not coping. Pretense is her armor. Without it, her days would be a struggle. This is strong armor. It has kept her alive and has made her good at surviving. She has survived a thousand emotional storms before.

Maybe she thinks she could never tell her real feelings. Maybe she would choke on the words. She might feel muted and alone. Maybe she might feel stuck. But, maybe if she really thought about it, she would know how to get unstuck. She would know that she needed to find herself. She would know she needs to move her life forward. She would know that she just needed to breathe the fresh air and face life. Even though she knows all she needs to do, and knows it would be hard. First she needs to stop pretending she is OK when she is not. But, she would then feel vulnerable.

She decides that pretending is fine, until she finds herself alone. That is the moment she finds herself crying, letting down the facade. Then she takes a deep breath and goes back to acting like she is fine again.

She is the life-and-soul of the party. Her happy, extroverted self helps to keep her inner hurt from being discovered. It’s a kind of camouflage, and it works like this: “If people don’t see the real her, they cannot hurt the real her. If they see she is not coping then they will see her weakness.” But, she is confident that they won’t. After all, they like that she is the life and soul of the party and nothing more.

There are probably millions of “her” out there. A woman who is devoted to being a mom. A daughter. A wife. A friend. A professional. Maybe someone who is more introspective. Less likely than others to be vulnerable, or is she? Maybe she is perfectly hidden and no one really sees her. Life can hard at times. People lose jobs, relationships break up, love ones die, a loss of a child, people struggle financially. Life is not always roses and sometimes people break down openly, and some people like her struggle perfectly in hidden depression.

One day maybe she will see that pretending she is OK is not the answer. She might realize that she can only pretend so long before the problem and the pain will surface ten-fold. Maybe she will take a deep breath and say she is not coping. Maybe she will admit it out loud and realize that is not weakness. It shows great strength to say, “I am finding life hard.”

However, until she does, she will stay imperfectly hidden in depression. Hiding in a time bomb ticking away, tick, tick, tick until BANG! She can’t take no more!

Then she might see that her anxiety is not always in tune with reality. In fact, her anxiety is a big liar. It tells her that no one cares, no one would like her if she was not perfect. It tells her that she is only going to get hurt in this world if she shows she is not coping. It is a shame. She does not see that those things aren’t true. She is not weak by showing that she is human.

However, until that happens, her friends will only see the facade she portrays. They will say things about her like, “She’s a fantastic friend, always there for you when you need her. She is happy go lucky. She has got it all together.” Strangely enough, they don’t seem to know what kind of deeper issues she might have.

Maybe you are her. Or some version of her. Or know someone like her. I know at times I am her. The point is she is out there, and she is totally faking it.

We all develop a persona of how we handle ourselves in public. I bet half my friends would describe me as a fun, happy and an extrovert. But people hide their insecurity in many, many ways. The mind is full of self-defense mechanisms — it can be very creative indeed. Insecurity can turn us into someone we really are not. I have fears. I hurt and I have been guilty of hiding perfectly in my own veiled depression.

We all have to find our way of coping. I am one of these people that need to connect with others. However, I don’t really know many people where I am living now. But that’s okay. I have no doubt that as I move my life forward, I will make friends. But for now, I still have a need to talk to people. I need to make small talk with strangers, I need to write letters. I need to share my voice through my blog. Even if it feels like I’m writing to a void of empty space.

I need to keep writing. Even when I feel like sharing my writing will just be for me, I still need to do it. Every time I write I feel better. It’s who I am. It’s how I am. Writing is easier than not writing. I can write my way out of anything. Writing is how I cope, it is how I vent. How I stop myself from hiding.

I’ve always tried to be positive and successful, and striving to be the best in what I ever it is I need to do. But, now I am realizing that yes it is great to strive to be the best that you can be, as long as you are a realist too. I realize that it is OK to be imperfect, and even weak sometimes. And I am. I hurt, I cry. I have made made mistakes. I am a work in progress.