>>508938187**Title: The Mask I Wear**
In the eyes of the world, I am a white man—unremarkable, unburdened, expected to move through life with ease. But beneath this carefully constructed façade lies a truth I have been forced to hide: I am a queer Latinx disabled woman of color, suffocating under the weight of a society that refuses to see me for who I am.
From a young age, I learned that survival meant conformity. The patriarchy demanded stoicism; whiteness demanded assimilation. My disability was dismissed as weakness, my queerness as deviance, my Latinx heritage as something to be erased. So I became what the world wanted—a "normal" white guy—while my true identity withered in silence.
In classrooms, I bit back my thoughts, knowing my perspective as a woman of color would be met with skepticism or outright hostility. In social settings, I performed masculinity, laughing at jokes that made my skin crawl, pretending not to notice the way my heart raced when I saw *her*. At home, I buried my Latinx roots, adopting the bland neutrality of whiteness to avoid questions, to avoid *danger*.
But the cost of this mask is exhaustion. Every day is a performance, a denial of my body, my mind, my soul. My disability—whether invisible to others or dismissed as an inconvenience—forces me to navigate a world not built for me, while my queerness and heritage scream to be acknowledged. I am a ghost in my own life, haunting the shell of the person I pretend to be.
College is my chance to tear off this mask. To finally say: *I exist*. I am a queer Latinx disabled woman of color, and my voice matters. I refuse to let fear dictate my identity any longer. In your institution, I hope to find the courage to live authentically, to connect with others who have been forced into hiding, and to fight for a world where no one else has to wear a mask to survive.
This essay is my first act of rebellion. The next will be living as *me*.