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Our True Superpower

                                                                            


If you could have any superpower, what would you choose? Someone at the table answers, invisibility. I’ve been invisible my entire life I think to myself. 

 

I’ve been a shape shifter for as long as I can remember, melding and molding myself into various contortions to become whoever I need to be at any given moment in time. Forever a rule follower, I took the Scriptures a smidge too literally and did indeed die to myself. Quick to erase hurt feelings and sweep conflict under the rug, contentment is the name of the game. And by all appearances, I’m winning. Like a chameleon changing colors at a moment’s notice, I merge into whoever I need to be. Even I forget who I am, unable to answer simple questions about favorite foods or hobbies. I weave my way through life, only ever allowing people to skim the surface, scared that I’d be rejected completely if they knew who I really was. To be invisible doesn’t feel like a superpower to me.  


In one of my earliest memories, I’m lying under my desk during our daily naptime in kindergarten, classmates around me whispering and giggling with hands over mouths. I gaze up at the bottom of my desk and absorb myself in a world of daydreams. After some time, the teacher turns the lights back on and everyone slowly climbs back into their seats, reluctantly grabbing pencils as our teacher begins distributing classwork. I remain under the dark shadow of my desk, silent and wondering when I would be called to come out of hiding. Classmates begin to write letters and add counting bears while I watch in silent amazement as time ticks by, and I realize my entire existence has been forgotten. Invisible. Maybe I’m invisible, I ponder. After what feels like hours, I slowly emerge from my cocoon and slide into my seat, unnoticed. I pick up my pencil and watch in wonder as the lead glides against the paper, proof that I’m really here. Words on a page, evidence of my existence. Like warm breath hitting the frigid air on a cold winter day, words never fail to show up. 


When I turned 35, I had an awakening of sorts upon realizing that I wasn’t really sure who I was. Having spent over a decade pouring myself into raising babies, I found myself in the middle of an identity crisis. I embarked on a journey to find myself, eager to try anything that seemed even remotely interesting to me. And while I did learn a lot about myself (like that I love how strong my body feels after leaving a Pure Barre class and that playing guitar, even badly, is very therapeutic), I learned that people are drawn more to vulnerability in others than to people who simply float along with the group. When I embrace the opportunity to let the words on the pages of my life be truly mine, I am met only with acceptance and grace. Invisibility is a cloak that can be thrown on hastily at times, but the real superpower is having the courage to bear your humanity to others in a world that often feels scary and uncertain. 


This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Words to Carry".*



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