The mask of Anonymity

Anonymity.. safety behind the mask. Is it used for  power, for cowardly motives? Armor for vulnerability held only by a tenuous thread? Or outright maliciousness? Which way do you wear the mask?  Do you have more? Do you even wear one?

Have I ever used an anonymity mask? I know I've needed it in the past, to deflect  arrows that were aimed my way for whatever reasons. Be it something I had done or from the unhappiness of another.   It would of come in handy, after all you can't penetrate the outer shell so there's protection and strength behind it, yes?
No.
No matter how tough the outer shell, what's inside is still vulnerable.

Despite the safety of being anonymous we all have signatures we're known by. The way we walk or talk, the clothes we wear or places we haunt. All those things generate from the core of who we are.
It's also very much evident in the way we write.
I received a couple of comments on several pieces I have written in the last couple of months. I understood the need for the anonymity and I don't blame the person for wearing that mask. I would have too, given the circumstances. But there are still risks involved. Sometimes, no matter how intricate the mask, parts of ourselves peek through.

These two comments ,while given behind safety of her mask, affected me to the very center of my being. I knew where it came from and the importance of them. I was complimented on my writing from someone whom I consider a highly talented writer.
The sheer act ( and I mean sheer, I knew what it took ) of taking that risk and reaching out humbled me, reaching way down, smoothing a layer of salve on a very deep scar. It also marched right up to my heart and parked itself there, demanding an acknowledgment of what never left... love.
Damn it. I didn't want this, I don't want to have to answer to my emotions all the time. Why do I have to feel each and every last emotion? To chew on it , stick it somewhere only to pick at it again till I know every nuance, every last layer of it?

But as I write this, I don't have a mask to hide behind. I can't begin to convey how desperately I need want one. I'm looking to crawl behind a thick door of steel. I don't like the vulnerability, arrows don't go right through me when I'm in this state, they have the power to burrow and embed.
When all is said and done, I don't want this post to chase her away, I'm taking a chance, I know. 
But if she risked reaching out , I owe her the respect of acknowledging it without a mask of anonymity.