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© 2023 by inTune Pathways 

ABN 78 435 698 441

It's time to come home

July 20, 2019

The truth about masking is that it is complex

There are many masks, for many occasions

Masks that adorn our beings

Born of survival

Those we fashion from trauma

Those we parade to get where we need to be

And those we fix tightly to hide


The masks we wear in order to stay hidden

Are the most difficult to remove

They are both the most comforting,

Yet the most suffocating


They are the masks that have attracted to us

People, places and things

For safety

For comfort

Until we realise

Those people, places and things

Are not aligned with who we are

Because the design of the mask

Has changed so often

To meet the person, place or thing


This mask cannot be taken off at once

There is a process

Of chipping away

Fragment by fragment

For the moment we decide

It is to be removed

Is the very moment

That we, have, 

Up until then,

Been creating it

Our entire lifetime


The removal of this mask

Works in stages

There is pain

The continuous questioning,

Unveiling, undoing, unearthing

Who we are


It hurts

To think the truth

To dream it

It hurts

To hear the truth

Leave my lips

It hurts

To feel my being

Tell me

It will no longer be disconnected

As it takes a stand


There is loss

The loss of those 

People, places and things

Who were drawn to the mask

And will, inevitably, leave with the mask


There is grief

Deep sadness

The floating

The dark night of the soul

The seeking

Craving somewhere to land

Gathering all the new pieces

Yet not quite knowing

How they piece together


There are realisations

Knowings, truths, intuitions

Letting go

Saying No

To the things we once believed

Were our answers

Our solutions

Our happiness


And there is feeling

Being consumed

With feeling

Yet not understanding, 



What, why, 

What to do with it


As the mask comes apart,

Piece by piece

We find ourselves looking in

Glimpses of our old selves

Looking in on what appears to be

A stranger


Who is this?

Is this me?

Is this really me?

Losing touch with the people pleasing

The fear of what others think

Speaking our truth

Our highest truth

Leaning further into 


Self love



There are times

Where the mask

Remains untouched

For days, weeks, months at a time

Just to hold on

A little longer

For self preservation

For familiarity





With the removal of the mask

Comes fear,

Unfamiliar territory

Unchartered waters

And all the things the mask held at bay






Being misunderstood





And yet

Nothing has ever felt so true

And so right

And so promising


And my spirit

My soul

My being

My sacred, autistic being

Gives me a wink

Holds my hand

And nudges me forward


“It’s time to come home.”

Kristy Forbes
inTune Pathways
(Art: VeroFalcioniArt)

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