I grew up invisible. That is why I chose my blog to be called "Another Invisible Daughter." I was a middle child. I was a girl. I was quiet and followed the rules. I did my work and I stayed out of sight. I grew up knowing that the only time I would be thought about was if a chore had not been completed or if I was seen. Looking back, I think one of the best things that could have happened in our growing up years is our family moving to a farm. Once we were on the farm, we could disappear into the fields and woods for hours at a time, often beyond our mother's voice range. When we were out of sight, it was way less likely that Mother would lash out on us.
Some of my other siblings did not take so quietly to the abuse and this drew the attention away from me. Until I was a teenager, I was my parent's easy child. But I also knew that I was completely invisible. I was four years old the first time I started planning on running away. I made plans many more times over the next years. One thing that I never thought about was that my family might notice I was gone. I figured they wouldn't notice.
At church, I was never one of the popular girls. I considered myself lucky if I got to hang out with the group of girls my age. My family was a little to strict to make friends, so I only had shallow friendships. I was so invisible that other mothers wouldn't even consider me for babysitting. All my other friends got to go help new mothers but I was never considered.
When I was older (my mid-teens), we met a wonderful family that realize the pain us siblings were in and reached out to help the older siblings. I, however, did not quite make it into those lucky ones who got the counseling and the friendships. I didn't get to go out clothes shopping with the "older" girls (although one was only a few months older than me). I was completely forgotten. My siblings and this family would have "dreams" and "revelations" about all the wonderful things that were going to happen in their lives and about how godly and spiritual they were. Not a single one of those "dreams" and "revelations" contained a single thing about me. I was hurt so deeply. I cried every day because I was not a good enough person to be considered for a friend. I repented of every sin I knew of and constantly beat myself up over not being spiritual enough to be considered for all the great things God was going to do through my siblings. In fact, I still hurt now when thinking about the pain and the rejection of those years.
Being an invisible child and young adult had an effect on me that I didn't even realize until the other day. I still consider myself invisible but I'm actually not. I think that no one will ever think about me or talk about me. I think that I can go through my day without leaving a mark on those around me. I think that no one will remember me or what I've said or mention me to another person.
You see, I am a liar. A chronic liar. An impulsive liar. I lie about everything to everyone, even those closest to me. I try to hide everything in my life. I make up stories for even no reason at all. If I were invisible, then lying would be of no consequence. However, I am not invisible. I am another person that other people know and talk about and care about. When you're a real person, it hurts other people when you lie. When you are a real person, lying matters. Now I just have to remind myself that I am a real person. I am not invisible.
