Tonight half the neighborhood will be wearing a mask.
Kids running door to door. Grown men in costumes they'll regret in the pictures. Everybody knows it's pretend, and that's what makes it fun.
Tomorrow morning the costumes come off.
But a lot of us have a mask we never take off. It doesn't come from a store. It's two words, and you've probably said them already this week.
"I'm fine."
The Mask That Fits a Little Too Well
Somebody asks how you're doing. Your wife. A buddy at the gym. The guy next to you at work.
And before you even think about it, it comes out. "I'm good, man. I'm fine."
Meanwhile you haven't slept right in weeks. Money's tight. You keep snapping at your kids and hating yourself for it. You told yourself you'd get back in shape in January, and the January before that.
But you're fine.
I wore that mask for a long time. In the Army you learn fast to keep your head down and handle it. On the sales floor you learn to smile no matter what kind of month you're having. Both of those taught me good things. They also taught me how to look solid on the outside while things were coming loose on the inside.
The mask works. That's the problem. It works so well that nobody asks a second question, including you.
What the Mask Costs You
Here's what I've learned. You can't fix what you won't admit.
As long as you're fine, there's nothing to change. No reason to ask for help. No reason to tell anybody the truth. No reason to make a real plan, because a man who's fine doesn't need one.
So the weight stays on. The temper stays short. The marriage stays on autopilot. The promises you make to yourself keep getting broken quietly, because nobody knows you made them.
The mask doesn't protect you. It protects the habits that are hurting you.
How to Take It Off
You don't need to stand up in front of a room and spill your whole life. Start smaller than that.
Tell one man the truth. Pick one person you trust. Next time he asks how you're doing, give him the real answer. Not the whole story. Just one honest sentence. "Honestly, I'm not sleeping and I'm stressed about money." That's it.
Name the one thing. Out of everything that isn't fine, pick the one that matters most right now. Your health, your temper, your time with your kids. One.
Say what you're going to do about it. Out loud, to that same man. "I'm going to be in bed by ten every night this week." When somebody else knows, it stops being a wish and starts being a promise.
Let him check on you. This is the part most men skip. Give him permission to ask you about it in a few days. Then tell him the truth again, even if the truth is you missed.
That's accountability. It's not somebody yelling at you. It's somebody who knows the real story and still shows up.
The Man Under the Mask
Here's what I want you to hear.
The guy under the mask isn't weak. He's tired. He's carrying stuff alone that was never meant to be carried alone.
You don't have to be fine. You just have to be honest with one person and willing to do the next right thing.
The kids will take their masks off tonight and nobody will think less of them. You can take yours off too.
If you're tired of saying "I'm fine" when you're not, I'd love to talk with you. That's what Abbott Strong is: 60 days with a man in your corner who gets the real answer from you every day and helps you do something about it. Grab a free Clarity Call here: https://calendar.app.google/Y37MH6pwzR3EHSj77
And if you lead a team, a group of men, or an event that needs to hear this, I'm available to speak. You can find out more at www.abbottstrong.com/speaking.
