Invisibility
Wait, can I rob a bank?!?
I am a 55-year-old woman. This statement elicits 2 responses. To some, it is met with cheers of, “Me too! Do you believe it’s?” To which I answer, “Huzzah! It’s less about believing than propping up and squeezing into!” “So true,” they will chuckle and return to their middle-age activities like doctor appointments and pretending to enjoy/understand anything by Megan Thee Stallion.
For most people, though, this age declaration is met with bafflement and a good dose of fear. “How can you exist,” they will scream, “I cannot see you!” For most of the population, I have been fading from existence for the past 20 years. This disappearance isn’t some phenomenon unique to me. All women starting at age 35 are met with same affliction. (Men do not suffer the same fate. They become more powerful as they pass through their 30’s.) At first, I must admit, it was super irritating.
For instance, I would be next in line at Target when a 20-something (let’s call her Amber) would step right in front of me! My “excuse me” ignored, my rolled eyes unseen. How dare Amber! It happened again and again. I started carrying around pictures of myself as proof of life. “Here I am in Portugal; look at me in kindergarten; notice an accidental and unfortunate picture of my lady whisker.” I also took to proclaiming Elephant Man style, “I am not an elephant, I…
