I had a childhood where belonging often meant adapting. Around different people, I wore different faces. I became careful. Useful. Acceptable. Strong when I was not strong. Fine when I was not fine.
Later, I began to notice something painful: some of what I called my personality was actually protection. Some of what looked like love was fear. Some of what looked like being good was an old attempt to stay acceptable enough to belong.
That is why this work is not abstract to me. I know the cost of a mask that becomes so familiar you stop recognizing it as a mask.