The Invisible (Wo)Man

I realised this week that I have been devoting the majority of my life to date to being invisible.  To blending into the background.  To fitting in, becoming what I thought others wanted me to be - all to avoid comment, potential conflict or worse, anger and violence.  I wonder if this is one of the factors that prompted a cycle of eating disorders in my teens (and let's be honest, subsequently a lifetime of a slightly challenged relationship with food) - was I, literally, trying to disappear into very thin air?

I thought I was rather good at being invisible, certainly certain incidences and the behaviour of others' indicated that I should be awarded a gold star.  Parents who are largely uninterested in my life and rarely get in touch; people who think nothing of cancelling arrangements to meet up; being knocked over by a bike etc.  Of course I am responsible for certain events and instances in my past - allowing myself to be persuaded to dress to fit my ex's idea of what a Chelsea girlfriend looks like (not me apparently!); merging so well into the background that both of my significant others forgot that I existed and strayed elsewhere; working in a virtual company from a home that I live in alone.  I had achieved my goal - I am the invisible woman.

Or not, as events this week have revealed.  I have been delusional and my thinking has been tipped on its rather skewed head.  Apparently I am a 'very persuasive' person - a trait that makes me very good at my job on the one hand, however can be very damaging - both for me personally (as I invite others to collude in the idea that I am invisible by focusing on them) but also to others.  When that persuasion is negative, it can generate discontent and my endless worrying is then catching and forces others to worry - about me, why I'm worrying and what on earth is wrong with - everything, themselves included!  As you can hear, my thinking is rather muddled (and then some) and I am struggling to make sense of this.  

I am 'held in mind' after all.  I have not disappeared.  I exist and on the whole that is superb, but it can also be damaging.

I have not managed to escape through not eating, by over imbibing in alcohol, by hiding away in the rafters.

I am.  I still not am certain what 'I' is but I'm one step nearer to finding out.

The Missing Men

I am blessed in having some wonderful friends in my life and fortunate enough to have some incredible men amongst them, two of whom I have spent time with in the past week.

First there is PNL who never judges, gives sage advice, is my 'man about the house' on everything from jammed drawers to the best herbs to use and who has helped me through all manner of heart-breaks, fears, crises and joys.  Last week I scooted over to France to share three evenings with Misters NL in the luxury loft they were looking after in downtown Lille. We laughed, debated, dabbled in gastro porn, paddled, created in the kitchen together (n.b. the paddling was on the Belgium coastline, not the kitchen) and enjoyed much needed hugs. Moments that I will cherish especially as it may be quite some time until we're together again.

Two days later saw me in Dundee with another of the most significant men in my life.  One of the most incredible, energetic and challenging people I have ever encountered and who initially was my professional mentor and who now has evolved into a very dear friend and a very important guiding light in my life.  30 years separate us and yet we share similar values, ethics and a belief in honesty.  And a love of exercise.  Who else would pick me up, drop me in a gym and the next morning treat me to a dawn yomp in the dappled light of a wood before taking me for a sunny walk on the coast?  As with PNL, IM never has judged, can be painfully honest at times, but has taught me all manner of professional and personal lessons.  He has an aggressive form of cancer but maintains his strength and pragmatic take on life which his lovely wife is striving to replicate.  I rarely see IM in person and each moment together has become increasingly poignant and delicious - like a casserole that is left to rest and eaten the following dat - the nuances of flavour just get better and better.

Yet I return home to my lovely but lonely flat after each of these trips and cannot help but feel that there are certain men missing from my life.

First, my father.  He lives in a different country but that is not excuse enough for the lack of contact and interest in my life and that of my sisters and their children.  I will forever love my daddy but I continue to be mystified and somewhat hurt by the lack of his presence in my life.  I don't know what the answer is but I hope I still have the impetus to unearth it.

The other missing man is someone I'm not sure I would necessarily recognise but the absence of whom I feel and never more keenly than when I've spent time with those that I love.  A partner.  Someone with whom to share the daily joys, sorrows, worries and passions.  Lord knows I miss the passion.  As of 2nd August I have been single for three years.  Thankfully it no longer represents an aching chasm and for the first time in my adult life I am learning what it means to be me, on my own, and it's not the scary place I thought it to be.  

Perhaps he will forever remain a man of mystery.  Perhaps it really is fine to be on one's own for the rest of one's life.  Perhaps there really is no answer and one should concentrate not on the missing elements of one's life, but focus on those that exist.