Ciao! Italy was breathtaking, but there was one aspect of its culture that struck me the most. Amidst the masterpieces of Leonardo, Caravaggio, and Michelangelo in the Uffizi Gallery, one image lingered with me long after I left: a painting of a mask. It hung beneath some of Caravaggio’s darker works, pieces steeped in themes of redemption, grace, betrayal, and violence. This mask, however, seemed to echo something beyond the canvas, something timeless about identity and the human condition.

Ridolfo del Ghirlandaio’s “Portrait Cover with Mask” is an enigmatic artwork that reflects the Renaissance-era fascination with disguise, identity, and self-perception. The mask in this painting is more than a mere object; it embodies the tension between how we present ourselves to the world and the truth of who we are beneath. Masks grant anonymity, but they also challenge us to consider the hidden depths of identity and the performances demanded by society. Venice, with its rich history of masks during Carnival, is a city that knows this duality well. Masks there were both practical and symbolic, offering a suspension of rigid class structures and a fleeting taste of equality and freedom.

The Masks We Wear

Masks represent duality—an interplay between appearance and identity. Every day, we wear masks. Not the ornate kind found at Venetian Carnival, but subtle ones: the smiles we force when we’re tired, the personas we craft to navigate our jobs, relationships, and social circles. We hide behind these self-made masks, believing they protect us. But in truth, they often keep us from being seen.

Identity is a powerful psychological structure. How do we know if we’re being true to ourselves? How do we know who we are? The truth is, no one wants to be unhappy, but sometimes the emotional turmoil of removing the mask feels more painful than staying numb. We build walls around the parts of ourselves we deem unworthy, but those walls trap us just as much as they shield us.

In moments of quiet, I sometimes hear the walled-off parts of myself. “Why are you crying?” I ask. If I listen closely, I might hear the answer: “I don’t like the person you’ve become.” True happiness isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about unbecoming everything you think you need to be. It’s about letting go of the masks, the roles, the expectations, and realizing you already are enough.

Returning to Yourself

Changing your life doesn’t require an expensive trip to Italy or France—though traveling can help free your mind. It doesn’t require immersing yourself in art, culture, or pasta (though those things are undeniably wonderful). The person you are meant to be is already inside you, buried beneath years of conditioning and fear. The journey isn’t about becoming a better version of yourself; it’s about returning to yourself.

If life feels overwhelming, if you’re scared or uncertain, good. It means you’re alive and feeling something. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Life isn’t about rushing to conclusions. It’s about living the questions, letting your truth reveal itself piece by piece. It’s about removing each mask slowly, with care and courage, until you finally see yourself as you truly are.