yesterday, i had, for the second time in recent months, a unique experience for me (i realize two instances makes it less unique, but bear with me here). i was forgotten, despite my presence. me. it was quite a shock. if there's one thing i've never been, it's forgettable. i tend to be one of those all or nothing, love or hate her kind of people. but forgettable? no way. never. i tend to fill up my space and then some and have rarely experienced that anyone forgets me (perhaps once a busy flight attendant on a plane, who couldn't remember where she left off with the drinks cart).
it is a more than slightly disheartening event, coming as it does in this middle age of my life, when i may already be beginning to suspect that i'm fading away, growing older, facing the prospect that there's an old greek woman inside me, trying desperately to get out (apparently via persistent small black hairs on my chin), looming menopause, a general loss of sparkle and a fading into invisibility. and a nagging feeling that i never really found out what i should be when i grew up.
so being forgotten, for the second time in as many months, hit me rather hard. i can't help but take it a little bit personally. especially since it's the same person who forgot me in both instances.
it makes me want to wear more colorful clothes and stand up a bit taller the next time. i shall not fade into the background. not yet.
* * *
on a happier note, this luscious article makes me want to book a table at NOMA immediately.
fascinated by the notion of the green man.
still reading roger deakin's wildwood - it's nature writing as philosophy. beautiful and fascinating.
7 comments:
I've had that similar sort of experience a few times in the last year. It was unnerving for me because, like you, people tend to remember me-- for one reason or another.
I don't know if I am willing to attribute it to age [yet] as much as the fact that everyone I meet is so overwhelmed by information/noise + media generated fear + technological complexity that they barely know who they are. Let alone me.
Don't fade into the background...not yet!
How very DARE they! For shame.
From what I can tell, fading isn't going to be an issue.
I have to thank you for this post because I too have suspected that there's old Greek woman inside (except mine is so grey there's white hairs on my chin).
I think I realized that was starting to fade at 42 when people just seemed to stop noticing me, like I longer had a place in queues without having to push a little, men wouldn't look at me anymore and only kids would see me as they gave up their seat to me on the bus.
Of course, there are those who have gone before us who have managed to keep the old Greek woman inside small and quiet. They wear read and purple together, dye their hair in odd colors and wear stocking with odd colors. I want to be one of them because there's no way in hell I'm gonna get all invisible and hairy like some sort of small animal!
Isn't it funny that we each have to experience these life events to understand them? It is crazy to me that we women of a certain age begin to experience this, and rather than see it as a standard phase, perhaps we take it personally, and as some comment on our individual attractiveness, vivaciousness? ocity? whatever.
Thank you for being bold and speaking about it. You give us permission to speak our truths as well.
Yws, I think we all experience this. however, was it a person who matters anyway? There si also something glorious about being invivsible too as then you can be your real self and not be on show for others. I kind of like it and have become more me the older I get.
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