Accepting Anonymity

Webster's dictionary describes anonymity as the quality or state of being anonymous.  It describes invisibility as incapable by nature of being seen: not perceptible by vision. I recently turned forty and as I enter middle age, I struggle with my identity.  Who am I? I know who I was, but I am entirely left to ponder who I am now and who I will be, who I can be in the future.  One thing I have discovered is that there are many other women in my situation. Though I don’t wish any discomfort on them; it does give me comfort to know I’m not alone.  We’re not alone.

I’ve been a wife and mother for nearly two decades, and all of a sudden my very independent teenager doesn’t need me as much as he did before.  He is ready to leave the nest, and I’m being forced into retirement. My career of being a mom, my means of existence is fading further away day by day.  Yes, like most of you I have a job. You know, a place that I drive to every day, perform specific tasks, and two weeks later receive compensation for my time and effort.  I refer to it this way because I don’t think of it as a career. It’s not a passion rather, it’s a necessity. I have this crazy idea that one day I’ll find that perfect position combining my passions and talents and I’ll get paid to do it. I guess crazier things have happened. For years I have envied women who had “careers” instead of “jobs,” and I continue to envy them now.  It’s because I feel that women who spent their lives balancing a “career” they’ve worked hard to achieve (doctor, lawyer, entrepreneur, teacher) while being a mom now have something to fall back on once the children begin lives of their own.  They have a specific career that they’ve worked toward as young women, and now that the nest is empty these women still have a place they belong. I’ve never had that. I’ve never belonged.

It’s exhausting to fight the feeling of anonymity and invisibility daily especially around co-workers, friends, and family.  To feel like you are slowing becoming more irrelevant as the clock quickly ticks away. Allowing yourself to focus on your inadequacies more than your capabilities. Wanting to follow your heart and your passions but, sometimes the things we're passionate about don’t pay the bills.  But I will share something that gave me a bit of a different take on this problem. A few months ago I went somewhere new, a place I’d never been and discovered for the first time how exhilarating it was to be completely and utterly invisible.

There is something compelling about getting lost in a concrete jungle full of millions of people.  No one is aware of my existence. I’m faceless, nameless. They don’t know whether I’m an entrepreneur, stay at home mom, flight attendant, a foreign spy, diplomat, actor, or no one important at all.  They don’t know if I’m a failure, a success, rich or poor, talented or not. I love the anonymity of the city; of New York City. There I can be anyone I want to be in that moment, and that’s a powerful place to be.  I find magic in the hustle and bustle of the busy streets. Horns blaring, traffic jams and people...people. I see magic all over the city, especially in Central Park. It’s a quick escape from the craziness of Manhattan to relative silence and peace.  Surrounded by bare branched trees on a cold November day. Mesmerized by rust-colored leaves on the ground now a muddy, slushy mess. There’s a street entertainer with his Pinocchio doll on strings performing for passersby hoping to earn a buck or two. Fashionista's taking photos for Instagram on a bridge and youngsters practicing their ice skating spins in the rink.  Is it just me or does my latte taste better while sitting on a bench in Central Park?

My point to all this is that sometimes there is power in being invisible; being anonymous.  Perhaps we should look at it as if we’re behind the curtain of our own Broadway play, and only we decide when the curtain goes up, and we make our entrance.  Maybe it’s okay to remain behind the curtain until we figure out the opening scene of act II. Before we enter the second half of our lives.

I would recommend this to you. Go somewhere you’ve never been before.  Go alone or at least spend quality time with yourself in an unfamiliar place.  As odd as it sounds sometimes when you get out of your comfort zone you find comfort. You may not have to go as far as New York City, though, if you haven’t been, in my opinion, you’re missing out.  

If you are able to find a place that gives you joy in being anonymous, you can always return there.  When you’re feeling invisible and negative in your daily life you can return to that perfect place in your mind where anonymity was king.  When it felt good to be invisible. When it felt powerful. Sometimes as I walk around I go back to that place in my mind. Soon my pace quickens, and I’m walking down Madison Avenue.  The cold winter air against my face. Wholly and entirely...anonymously...me.