When Your Damn Catsuit is on the Fritz!

As a single black woman with no children and disconnected from family, I am invisible.

Wielded properly. It is a power.

A not so bad thing, I have learned how to wield it as power. If an onlooker’s vision is tainted, in my invisibility I present as an average one. With the burden my blackness, below average.

Still waters run deep. On a clear day those still waters only reflect. To find out how deep the water is… jump in.

You must give freely of your kindness.

They say that you should not judge a book by its cover. This is a true statement. They’ve mentioned too, that you should not judge a book by its movie. Also very true. The book is usually better.

This isn’t about books or movies. Maybe it is. Sometimes life feels like a story. It’s author unknown. Seemingly nefarious, out there in the universe writing my story all willy nilly. My author must be drunk. Because the shit that they craft…

Ok! I digress! Invisible. I am invisible and people with distorted vision often see what is not there.

Still waters.

We often rely on our past experiences to guide our actions with the new ones. We believe that similar human behaviors are facts of life. They are not. Usually, they are simply similar events. Acts of life. Varieties in experience. Just as there are many paths to a destination, there are many reasons why people people.

Pistanthrobphobia affects a scary amount of humans. Which is how I ended up with the suit in the first damn place. Oh, and that burden of blackness. Those two things.

What a time to be alive!

Still waters.

After some intense anamnesis I have learned that assumptions about me are made because my purposeful invisibility leaves plenty of room for people to do just that. Assume. Solely relying upon their personal experiences and worldly observations they incorrectly draw conclusions on expectations about our interactions rather than being present with me to learn more.

Still waters present invisibly, they only reflect.

Yo! If they know like I know they would want the whole story. My author, that dude is hilarious. Chile, listen.

My power of invisibility is multifaceted. It’s like the Batsuit. Which, by the way, is really a Catsuit. With gadgets and special capabilities. Each with distinct uses. I use the SO44 quite often. Its functionality is intense and varietal. It can take up all of the space in a room. The stealth mode, my favorite mode, is strategically used intermittently during set periods of time. It is self contained but, not combustible. I’ve yet to discover the length of time used before things get adverse. I have wrapped myself up in its warm embrace for years at a time. It’s like Linus’ blanket. Termination mode is my least favorite. The amount of energy needed is exhausting. It requires an intense restorative healing period. It is the mode that I shy away from. It’s fucking dangerous.

Consider the depth of those still waters.

The difficulty in being invisible is that too much space leaves room for people to get me very wrong. I usually have less than zero fucks to give when that happens. One day, I started to feel its weight and was no longer interested in barring it. It started to become a burden that required me to fight harder for the things that I desperately needed. What was keeping me safe was also keeping me from.

Bubbles come up from the depth in still waters.

We all have the need to be seen. When, how, where, and frequency dictates the level of visibility need. We all want to be seen. Some, more than others where we each act according to what it is that we desire.

Having been thrown unceremoniously into invisibility at birth, existing as a Black woman in particular spaces, to be seen requires double work that only gets us half as far. Only to be questioned about why we got so far by a mediocre one who has been conditioned to believe that their mediocrity means superiority. Who approved this?! Apparently there is only room for a select few to be visible. I could only be so lucky. Using my time wisely, in that space, my power was refined.

Under the cloak of invisibility I discovered that water seeks its own level. And that no matter how hard I tried I can not hide my light.

The consequences of giving zero fucks about the opinions of others where I am concerned is that the opportunity to make lasting connections is lost. While I am a very good judge of character, I recognize that there are others who wield this same power. Others who have honed their craft in ways that are beyond my scope of work.

Ha! I just wanted to put that in there. Scope of work.

I have not always given kindness freely. I too, had mistakenly made an assumption of someone based on my past experiences. Seen people with my distorted vision. Once I recognized my error I made the necessary adjustments. If allowed and in whatever way it looks like. I stopped making that mistake.

Still waters reflect the surrounding beauty.

A series of events occurred. I was minding my business trying not to be so invisible. Semi-visible if you will. And my world shook. Quick and dirty. Literally. Quick. And dirty.

One. Two. Skip a few. I needed to get to the bottom of this damn shakeup. My world shook and my power conked out. That shit is on the fritz! It’s not working when I want it to. I’m stepping out into the world without my cloak. Just the Catsuit. Which is not how that’s supposed to work. It’s an outfit!!! I’m exposing parts of myself all willy nilly. No longer closed off to the rest of humanity, there are windows more than half-way opened. I’m leaving doors ajar for a cross breeze and freshness of air. It’s actually quite enjoyable. The air around me had been stale. At times, stifling.

I must have been standing close to a fault line. I don’t know. All I know is that my world shook and my power started being all weird.

I embarked on a journey. Not sure if it was to get my shit fixed or a discovery quest. Maybe it was a discovery quest for getting my shit fixed. Either way, there was an energetic pull that drove me absolutely crazy. And whats even crazier is that I couldn’t use my power to investigate. Plain ol’ me had to puzzle it out.

See how my author likes the nefariousness sprinkled throughout my story.

I was consumed with trying to name a thing. Exposed. My suit was on the fritz and damned if another event didn’t present itself. It presented as a sidetrack. In actuality, it was a move by the universe, a part of the grander plan that led me to solution.

A name.

Sebastian! I need a name! Give me a name!!

I got you boo!

Man, was it an intense 24hrs getting to the identifying. But man! Boy did it feel good. A weight lifted. Relieved of burden. Done while exposed. The invisibility is at the root of the problem. Giving kindness freely while invisible leaves people to lean on their own understanding. An assumption was made. This time, when how I was got was wrong, I gave a fuck.

With a name in hand I have direction. I will continue my discovery quest, when it’s all said and done I might not have my power.

Who knows. Stay tuned.

Ayeizche 523