[She tries to think about who she is when she isn't trying to be someone else. The answer is, as far as she can tell, sobbing her heart out. There's always a purpose to what she shows and who she presents, even if it's a true part of her, unless she's mid-shatter. She knows the difference between that and full mask, certainly - but she doesn't know what would be left if she peeled every bit away instead of cracking the half-masks open, waited until the storms cleared. Quietly,]

It feels like it's easier, going along with people's assumptions. If you make it easy for them, then you'll have less trouble to deal with. And then you realize you're being so careful you can't breathe.