The Anger of a Quiet Woman.

I am the kind of person who other people expect to get out of their way.
They scythe through my path and sweep aside my attempts at progress.
They know that their destination, their goal, their time, is more important than mine.
Street sellers assume that I am a soft touch.

I am the kind of person who does things unnoticed and passes only silent comment.
Others speak for me and make assumptions about my feelings.
I am an empty space which they fill with their prejudices and misunderstandings.
Although I have opinions of my own I am rarely asked for them.

People talk at me, without stopping to wonder whether I am listening,
If I bother to shoehorn a word in they will use the time to prepare their next speech.
My interior life is assumed to be tedious and arouses little curiosity.
I am left undisturbed to see without being seen, and hear without being heard.

I am the kind of person who has learned how to watch while others give themselves away.
Their thoughts and opinions fly free, taking no account of what little they know of me.
They think that because I say nothing their version of themselves is believed as truth.
They mistake silence for approval.

I am the kind of person who is left alone to walk through a crowd, unnoticed.
I am free to observe. I remember details and I am able to draw conclusions.
I feel no need to share them. It is enough that I know what I know.
Invisibility is a superpower.


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