The Masquerade in the Daylight

Dear Delyara, The clock reads 3:20 AM, and I am sitting in the dark feeling completely hollow from the sheer effort of maintaining the masquerade. When the sun is up, I talk to potential investors and digital collaborators using the high-level vocabulary of my business degree, projecting an image of absolute corporate confidence and premium luxury positioning. They think I am operating out of a high-end studio, managing a flourishing enterprise. They don't know that my corporate wardrobe is stored in a locker at a commercial security site, or that I spend my nights dealing with the raw, gritty reality of frontline security. The massive gulf between the luxury brand I am positioning and the frontline uniform I am wearing is a psychological fracture that is becoming too heavy to carry. I am terrified of the day the mask slips and the world sees the reality behind the luxury layout.