It is a common truth, that as we age, we shrink. Gravity has a way of pulling us down closer to the earth.
But for some of us, we've been shrinking for years. It's nothing to do with aging. It's everything to do with thinking we are of no value, that we have no right or reason to draw attention to ourselves.
For some of us, shrinking out of sight is a skill we learned as children. We kept low and out of eye contact range as much as possible. When all hell broke loose, we went quietly about picking up pieces, cleaning up messes, taking care of the debris from someone else's fallout level disasters.
As adult women, we have learned the art of the fadeout. Insecure in our appearance, or confidence, or overtaken by circumstances we'd not foreseen that have pounded us to pulp, we quickly sank out of sight under the weight of responsibility, and the belief that if someone ought to do be in the background fixing things, it had to be us.
Not too long ago, I realized that I'd become one of the invisibles made up largely of women who have denied their rightful place in the society in which they are involved by their own lack of self-esteem. Some women want to blame men for being in that position. Bullies come in all sorts of genders, all ages and all income levels. If we were not strongly convicted of our own value, we can easily become invisible but it's our choice... Do not for one moment think that our shrinking was male oriented.
One of the things I absolutely dreaded about a recent family trip was being ignored by my visitors. Being strictly in the background and not in focus. Being unknown among family I loved. I'm not sure of all the dynamics that come into play but one of the players in this family group has a fear of anyone he sees as aging. He has long ago formed the habit of dropping away from anyone he felt was getting older. The others have been conditioned to be insular. They shrink within and don't reach out. Their walls are high. I wanted very much to blame them, how they are, for my own shrinking back, but truly it was I who shrank, I who held back, for fear of being hurt by their indifference towards me.
I've always thought of myself as being quietly observant, but it hit home with this impending visit that what I am amongst this family branch is unknown. They know nothing about me. They have never attempted to know me. But more importantly, I have never attempted to tell them about myself. I've never expressed an opinion, never spoken frankly of my feelings or likes or dislikes. How could they know me?!
I had myself to blame. I'd allowed myself to stay too deep in the background. I was less noticeable than furniture. Always there, always ready to do whatever needed to be done, but not a part of anything. I'd stopped representing who I was, stopped making myself known in any manner and stopped making myself visible.
I recently talked with a younger female family member who was telling me about a work outing. "I just got terribly conscious of how much space I take up..." she said miserably. And while she was talking about her size, her remark hit me on a whole different level than body image. Truth is this girl is gorgeous and she's going to stand out no matter what size she is. People have always noticed her, and they are always going to. But for the past few years or so she's worked in an off-site office, away from the main offices she serves. It seemed to me that she felt apologetic for the space she took up in a mental/emotional way, too, not just in a physical way, at the recent companywide outing. I felt very uneasy with that statement of hers. And I think that's when I really began to reassess how I represent myself.
Start to listen and watch for the synchronistic messages in your life. For at least a year now, we've been urged at church to "Love God, Love people, Share your story." I haven't shared my story with anyone except on the written page. But recently that message from church is everywhere I turn.
Then I heard three more messages in the past month that were synchronistic. First there was my relation's bit of conversation, then my acknowledgement to a close friend of my reluctance to host family because of how I felt invisible in my own home when around them, and then the woman that I'd found on a social platform @Shahartalks who popped up one day. She is an older woman, and full of the same messages I'd been 'receiving' of late. The message was the same. "I feel I should remain strictly in the background. I feel unknown, unseen, unwanted...Un-everything".
I've had to look long and hard at me, myself and I over the past three weeks in light of these revelations.
Months ago, I knew that I'd lost my way in the fashion sense. My hair was far too short, looking a bit like someone recovering from a disease. My clothing was all wrong for my body shape, and devoid of personality. I'd been trying hard to build a wardrobe in a classic style, which I believed was more economical and longer lasting, but it was wrong for my body type and my personality. As we stayed home more and more over the past year or so, I'd given up really caring about what I wore, or about wearing makeup except on the rare days we'd planned to be out of the house.
Over the last few months, I've re-evaluated my 'look'. I'm letting my hair grow out enough to begin afresh, painful as I find the process of waiting for hair to grow. I've been adding more feminine flowy sorts of styles back into my closet, including dresses, as I need to replace things. I feel fantastic when I wear them, too! I've taken time to put on makeup daily, and earrings and perfume. I'm getting more focused on having little spa days which boosts my self-awareness of my body health overall, as much as it boosts my self-esteem.
But it was more than my appearance that needed to be altered. While it's true that I am naturally shy, I had managed to overcome it in the past. I was never the shy, quiet, retiring type in the years I worked as a volunteer with civic organizations, or in the jobs I held. Goodness knows I had not been letting shyness rule when I met John. Socially I was at a peak...
However, in the last few years, I'd leaned harder and harder on letting John's light shine bright and brighter while I remained quiet, rarely drawing attention to myself, seldom pushing my way into a conversation. I called it 'observing' and while it's true, I did see a great deal more than what appeared on the surface I didn't reveal much of my own personality or feelings to anyone.
I admit this mental alteration took place over a long period of time. I was overwhelmed and tired and often felt shut down when out socially if I mentioned I'd been a homemaker for 25 years, was helping to raise toddler grandchildren, or that I was a writer, occupations not worthy of anyone's notice and the latter either intimidated or put people off for other reasons.
In the small community in which I live, it is a fact that amongst country folks, if one suggests one is educated or intelligent (i.e. saying 'I write'), then you are shunned. Acceptable occupations that require education are preachers, teachers, and lawyers. And all of those referenced will assure anyone in their opening speech that they are 'just a poor old country boy' or girl. Anyone else is suspect. People who'd been conversing with me would nod briefly and leave me all to myself after I said I wrote. I'd revealed myself as 'uppity'.
In larger communities where we tended to go to church and generally be more sociable, not having traveled much beyond the Central Georgia area and not writing anything more substantial than a blog put me in the league of 'hick'. The word 'only' came up a lot when asked what I did. "Oh, are you 'only' a homemaker? "Oh, are you only a blogger?" I think in the end, my deep sense of shame about how I occupied my time grew from the reactions of people overall. It was safer to remain quiet.
I might have changed their opinion about myself had I spoken up or remained confident in the value of what I do or trusted in my love of getting to know others or shared books I'd been reading and life experiences. But having grown up in the environment in which I did, I reverted to familiar old behavior patterns: shrink and fade. Stay quiet and get off the radar.
Well, here I am. Shut off and disconnected by my own behavior and lack of confidence. If I remain unknown, I've no one else to blame but myself. So, what am I going to do about it?
I'm trying to shift myself from just the background. I'm working on being more open to saying 'Yes' to people when they ask if I'd like to go to lunch, might call. I'm going out of the house on my own once or twice each week. I'm making time to speak to others at church and at social gatherings. I'm trying to become comfortable once more allowing myself to be the focus of attention, however briefly. I'm trying to engage in conversation with strangers while in a check-out line or browsing the garden center. Yes, I may be rebuffed at times. That's okay. Some people are busy; some are just annoyed. Not everyone wants to reach out.
But most of all, I want to make sure that the people who want to be in my life understand that I value who I am. And hopefully, seeing that I do they will share that value, too, because honestly, if they don't, then they don't really belong in my life, do they?
And that's the last key to this puzzle. I have to be willing to let go of those who feel I should remain in the background, shouldn't share my opinion, or observations with them. But I absolutely cannot allow myself to slide back into invisible mode. I am visible.
