I enjoyed that poem also.
I have worn a couple of masks.
The one I started wearing first was that of a clown.
Whenever I forgot something, tripped up or bumped into things, whenever I felt like jumping around, or I was late to things, I could act up as a clown and everyone figured I did these things on purpose.
I think that early on, I realized that being seen as 'being in control' was good, but 'being out of control' was bad.
If 'they' knew I could not control certain things about my behavior, then I would be bad.
If 'they' thought I was just clowning around, they could laugh and applaud me (attention), or just tell me that I had to straighten up.
Eventually I got to be known as reckless, daring, a rebel (my mom used that one a lot), and people would stop trying to correct me.
In a way, I created a persona through which I could gain everyone's acceptance, even if it was for the wrong reasons.
Later in my adult life, I found my second mask.
I had the ability to grow a very full beard. With the beard, several things changed in my life.
Many people would avoid me if I furrowed my brow, rode my harley, stuff like that. This gave me privacy.
I'm told my eyes are quite expressive. I suppose that helped to make some folks see me as the big old lumbering bearded guy whose goofiness was attractive, again, in a clownish sort of way.
Being big, bearded and gregarious, I became a sort of friendly giant to some.
I have kept the beard off for a couple of years now... pretty much. Don't know if I'll ever grow it back, although I HATE shaving!