Behind the Mask — Struggles with Pride, Ego & Darkness
When people see me DJ, they see the lights, the mask, and the energy. But what they don’t see are the nights I wrestled with pride, ego, and darkness behind that very mask.
Chasing Affirmation
Growing up, I wasn’t the popular kid. I wasn’t noticed in school. Dance was the first time I felt people paying attention. That feeling of affirmation became addictive — and when I transitioned into filmmaking and eventually DJing, the same pattern followed.
Every stage, every shout-out, every booking fed something in me. I told myself I was doing it for God, but deep down I was chasing affirmation from people. My identity wasn’t rooted in Him — it was wrapped around whatever gift I was using in the moment.
From Glow to Darkness
I’ll never forget the night I put on my sound-reactive mask at FLAME’s Black Out Circuit Tour. I wasn’t even supposed to be part of the show — just spinning while the crowd walked in. But when I put the mask on, the room shifted. People thought the concert had started. Even the artists backstage came out to see what was happening.
That moment changed my career. Weeks later, I was booked to DJ an arena show in Canada in front of 13,000 people — only my third show ever. On that stage, I discovered the mask gave me a confidence I didn’t naturally have. It allowed me to be animated, larger than life.
But over time, the mask also became a cover. It glowed on the outside, while behind it I carried jealousy, comparison, and emptiness. I shifted from serving the crowd to silently asking, “Why don’t I have what they have? Why am I not booked there?”
Eventually, the neon mask gave way to dark face paint. What started as a creative choice became a reflection of how I felt inside: heavy, bitter, and prideful.
Pride, Ego, and Tour Life
Touring with FLAME opened doors I could never have imagined. Flights every weekend. Stages across the country. Posting tour dates felt like proof that I had arrived. But pride is sneaky.
Instead of being grateful, I began resenting what I didn’t have. I compared myself to other DJs, convinced I deserved what they were getting. At one point, I even blamed FLAME for not making my finances “make sense.” The same opportunities I once prayed for became the very things I looked down on.
It didn’t stop there. I became jealous of peers — even DJs I considered friends. I scrolled past their wins instead of celebrating them. Inside, I was telling myself, “I’m better than them. I should be on that stage.”
That mindset almost destroyed me.
Collapse & Isolation
By 2019, everything unraveled. My marriage ended. My heart was heavy with bitterness. I stopped taking shows. I didn’t want to be around anyone who might call me out or remind me of truth.
I traded in my glowing mask for a much darker image. I even began posting cryptic, dark messages on Instagram — a silent cry for help no one fully understood. Isolation convinced me I was the victim. In my head, no one cared. But the truth was, I was running from accountability.
Behind the masks, I was breaking.
An S.O.S. I Couldn’t Ignore
My estranged best friend, Mike Real — someone I hadn’t spoken to in nearly two years — released a three-song EP titled S.O.S. While it didn’t mention me by name, I knew exactly what it was about.
Our broken friendship.
The first listen made me angry.
The second, defensive.
The third, convicted.
By the fourth, I realized he was right.
That conviction led me to apology, and eventually reconciliation. The reconciliation was the spark God used to begin pulling me back.
God’s Reset
Not long after, I was sitting in a young adults service led by Boost Radio’s Neal “Neallytime” Hopson when a question asked during the message pierced straight through me. “What’s the one thing in your life in which you tell God ‘I’ll surrender everything else to You, but this right here.. don’t worry about this.. I got it.” For me, the answer was immediate and undeniable. It was my career.
God made it clear: my entire career had become an idol. I wasn’t serving Him through it — I was serving the spotlight. The platform, the recognition, the affirmation — that’s what I was really protecting.
That night, I prayed a dangerous prayer: “God, I surrender it. Whatever You want to do, I’m listening.”
The answer came quickly and clearly — shut it all down.
DJing. Content. Twitch. Everything.
No announcement. No “taking a break” post. Just stop.
For someone who thrived on visibility and affirmation, the silence was uncomfortable. But it was necessary. In the quiet, God rebuilt what applause never could. My prayer life came alive again. My identity began untangling itself from performance.
Years later, I returned — not chasing the spotlight, but grounded in surrender.
Living Unmasked
I don’t wear the glowing masks anymore. That season served its purpose, but it also became a trap. What once gave me confidence ended up covering insecurities I needed to confront. But I still use face paint and creative masks at times — not to hide, but to express. They’ve become part of my art, not my identity.
The difference now is in my heart. Whether it’s face paint, a new mask, or no mask at all, I know what I’m reflecting. I’m not hiding behind props for validation — I’m using creativity as a tool to point to something greater.
Pride and ego still try to creep in, but I fight them by celebrating others, staying accountable, and remembering that applause is temporary while purpose is eternal.
The mask doesn’t define me anymore. Whether I wear one or not, the goal is the same — to let creativity point beyond me and reflect the Light that brought me through the darkness.
📌 Read more: Andre Arkade – Christian Hip-Hop & R&B Mashup DJ on a Mission
