What Am I? Invisible?!

What Am I? Invisible?!

I'm not sure how to approach this without sacrificing my ego, who by the way wants nothing to do with this blog post.

Two sides within me are battling as I type. 

My ego is saying, "You're legit attractive. Who cares if you're the only one who notices?" Um, I care.

My humility, the part of me that puts on no airs, is awfully gangster, and harvests a vast, yet empty field of phucks, feels like some truths should be said out loud. Truths regarding things I've wondered about lately, starting with: Am I invisible?!

Invisible to beautiful strangers. 

To be precise, I'm talking about The Moment of Invisibility (TMOI), just to give it a formal name.

The Moment of Invisibility is the split second when two people are sharing or passing through the same space where Person A wants to be noticed and approached by Person B. TMOI is typically preceded by a split second to an arbitrary 60 seconds, if you moronically linger, of optimistic anticipation. Person A knows that once Person B sees them, it's game over! But Person A's hopes are crushed like an empty soda can under a weighted foot when Person B looks at them, actually looks through them like they aren't standing there, and keeps walking. That second is The Moment of Invisibility.

The irony of this moment is that Person A immediately turns to their invisible friends and asks, "Did he just look at me and keep walking?! I know that didn't happen!" But it happened. And it's always a bit baffling when it does.

If this has ever happened to you, then you already know what comes after the talk with your invisible friends. You wonder if the person is in a relationship (because that is the only reason someone would pass up a sexy beast like you), or if the person was in a rush (you too tend to overlook people when you're preoccupied), or perhaps they simply didn't find you attractive--wait. No. Never. 

Those unanswered questions take a backseat to what I ultimately want. 

To know that I'm visible to the people who I want to attract. 

Oppositely, and sometimes to my shock and horror, I'm made aware of my visibility to people whose company I have no interest in keeping. They seem to see me very well and are not shy about striking up a conversation to tell me how they feel about the way I look or what they'd like to do with me if they had me. 

I thought this was mostly a woman's experience until I saw a meme on Instagram posted by a man who questioned why he liked one type of girl, while girls in whom he had no interest liked him. Perhaps this indicates a struggle that transcends gender.

I wish this post had a happy ending, a tale of having figured it out, or some helpful tips, but I'm stumped on this one.

I see myself in all my greatness, but I don't know what to do about this. I could say that I'm visible in ways that matter to my friends and family, which is true, but that only pacifies this issue. The issue of potential romantic visibility. The same visibility that's responsible for introductions to past beautiful strangers. 

The actions I think I can take to remedy the situation are counter to my personality. In fact, they seem obnoxious. Like winking, which I'd look goofy doing. Or smiling with my eyes, whatever that means. That's as far as my mind has taken me. It's given me horrible solutions to something that's technically not a problem, but more like an ego assassination.  

At any rate, if you've figured out how to be visible with whom it counts, please let me know. I'll be somewhere practicing how to pout my lips. Actually, I won't.


Photo credit: Vee via CC Flickr