The man who sets up to make himself up is taking on the Creator's role, according to one way of seeing things; he's unnatural, a blasphemer, an abomination of abominations. From another angle, you could see pathos in him, heroism in his struggle, in his willingness to risk: not all mutants survive. Or, consider him sociopolitically: most migrants learn, and can become disguises. Our own false description to counter the falsehood invented about us, concealing for reasons of security our secret selves.
A man who invents himself needs someone to belive in him, to prove he's managed it. Playing God again, you could say. Or you could come down a few notches, and think of Tinkerbell; fairies don't exsist if children don't clap their hands. Or you might simply say: it's just like being a man.
Not only to be believed in, but to believe in another. You've got it: Love.

Salman Rushdie