The Invisible (Wo)man

"I am an invisible man. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids - and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me." - Ralph Ellison

Am I wearing an invisibility suit?

I went shopping today.

I rarely go shopping anymore for a variety of reasons, some internal, most external.  I mostly wear clothes I can order from catalogs and don't have to try on.  But, I need new bras.  I usually wear sports bras (don't have to try them on) but since I'm trying to change how I live my life and view myself, I decided some sexy lingerie is the order of the day.

But bras are one item of clothing you really need to try on.  Good fit is necessary and one size does not fit all.


Source: Victoria's Secret

Victoria's Secret, the sexy lingerie capital of every community of consumerism (the American shopping mall), would never deign to carry my size in their store, so I went to one of the major department stores.  Big mistake. 

I was the only person in the department, but the sales woman, a middle aged woman not particularly svelt herself, busily stayed on the other side of the area.  Plus sized bras were stuck way back in the far corner.  And less than sexy.  The dressing rooms were cramped with inadequate air conditioning for multiple bra donning gymnastics.  Fun times.

I finally had to, rather bluntly, insist on assistance and was told with an indifferent shrug that they don't come any larger (excuse me?).  Her attempt at selling me something was a half-hearted poke at a nearby rack, and "sorry."  Apparently department stores don't pay commission anymore.   

This experience is ordinary and has come to be expected.  My mom, who is very tall and never overweight, cannot understand why I hate clothes shopping.  And it's not just shopping. Often, in a variety of venues where I might share my opinion, I am often ignored, if not blatently dismissed.

When I first started gaining weight, I could see the judgement in people's eyes when they looked at me.  But somewhere along the way, I suddenly became invisible. 

At first I didn't mind it so much.  I was extremely shy, and I was embarrassed of my body.  I couldn't be judged if I couldn't be seen.  I had very little self-confidence to begin with so I could hide behind the weight.  It was a mask that kept people from seeing the real me.

Now, that mask doesn't fit anymore.  I'm not the same shy girl I was at 25, but people still don't see me.  Often, they refuse to see me.  In our society, a person's worth is usually equated with their dress size and anyone over an unspecified size is automatically irrelevant.  And our society can be cruel to anybody deemed irrelevant.

So, how does a formerly shy, still introverted, currently overweight woman become visible?

Source: Dove