She had lived thirteen years wearing a mask to make someone else happy. I may be able to wear it for a little while, but eventually, the cracks appear on the surface, and the mask breaks.Ĭynthia’s mask was glued, filled with putty, and sat a little wonky by the end of six months. I find them suffocating, itchy and uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because I’m not great at wearing masks. I couldn’t understand why someone would pretend that their world is perfect when in reality, it was far from it. I initially did not like Cynthia and condemned her for her bad decisions. It’s amazing how much can change from the beginning of a book to the end. Who am I to judge Cynthia for burying her head in the sand for 6 months? At least she’s not sitting in a prison cell (not saying that I would over-react, I’m just saying that I could).
I mean, sure that’s what I would want to do, BUT, I have kids, money and accommodation to consider. Just because I think I would recognise a deceitful and cheating husband and kick him to the curb straight away, doesn’t mean I could. I realised while sitting on my high-horse judging with narrow-minded ignorance that I was judging Cynthia for her judgemental, narrow-minded ignorance. While reading At the Stroke of Midnight, I had quite the epiphany. Written on 4 of 5 stars Keeping the mask in place as your world falls apart…
0 kommentar(er)
