Last week, I went on an overnight trip with my daughter and 14 other teens from her school. They were participating in a high level academic competition, and I knew all of them, from 6th through 12th grade, at least a little bit from subbing. Another parent chaperone and I slept in the dorm, walked them to meals, recorded their performances. coordinated with their teacher coach and their parents at home.
I am 45 years old. A dorm bed and shower are not my first choice.
But these kids were delightful, and they did really well at their competition, and I was - AM - so proud of all of them.
So when we got back, and the school posted pictures of them, I was happy. I AM happy.
But.
I looked at those pictures and all I could think was that the other parent chaperone and I weren't in them. I hadn't asked to be, I hadn't thought I should be at the time. But here, now, looking back, I was looking at a picture of these kids and suddenly felt like I was never part of their experience at all.
I felt invisible.
I'm tired of being invisible.
As a mom, as a substitute teacher, as a theater booster and band patron, I show up and I do the work and at the end of the day I disappear. That's the point, I guess. The point is that it isn't about me.
But can't something be about me?
I have been known to disappear from group chats, from social media, from my blog (ahem, ahem) and wait for someone to notice I'm gone. I know that's stupid. I know it's crappy and immature and that really everyone else is too busy and too caught up in their own complicated lives to spend time looking for me if I'm hiding.
But sometimes I just wish that someone missed me when I was gone.
I wish that I was visible enough for someone to notice when I wasn't there.
Is that terrible? I hope not.
