Written proseDo you see me?, 2019

What do you see? I arrived feeling I was moving forward, towards the past. To the comfort of words, books and creativity unbound. I was nervous, it has been such a long time since I had written. It was a ladies creative writing class and I was excited. Until I entered the room and fell into the dark hole of society. I was devastated. I didn’t wear my battle scars nor my badges of honour on my sleeve because that would have meant standing there naked. I sat feeling no right to be there amongst these ladies who had been through cancer and had chosen diverse schools for their children. I curled up in anxiety and shrank into failure against talent and intelligence. On reflection, no they didn’t see me, as I didn’t see them, as we don’t see the people in front of us. How much do we see of that veiled difficulty of motherhood, the darkness of mental health, the confusion of neuro-diversity, addiction that destroys? How could they when not only did I not see the people closest to me, but I didn’t even see it in myself. I ask you. What do you see?