At first, the mask is useful.
It keeps you safe.
You learn who you need to be. What works. What gets approval, momentum, authority.
You get good at it. Even with time, excellent.
That’s Who Don Draper Is
Not a fraud. Not an imposter. A survivor.
Underneath his suit is Dick Whitman—the poor kid, the unwanted kid, the one who learned early that being himself wasn’t safe.
The world rewards your Don Draper.
Success doesn’t just validate the mask. It makes it permanent.
Every win reinforces the same rule:
I can never be Dick Whitman again.
This is where many high performers end up.
They perform flawlessly while something underneath goes numb.
Late in Mad Men, Don takes his kids to the house where Dick Whitman grew up.
Dirt, poverty, and (finally) the truth.
He doesn’t explain himself. He lets himself be seen.
Most founders don’t burn out from effort. They burn out from living on top of the part of themselves they’ve disowned.
Performance takes energy.
Exile takes even more.
Who Are You (Really)?
If this is landing uncomfortably close, nothing has gone wrong.
You’re standing in the place where the mask still works.
But you’re the only one who knows what it’s costing you.