Invisible Woman Syndrome Makes Aging Really Suck
For the past month or so, every single day, I’ve been in a grouchy mood, like - excuse my language - someone peed in my Fruit Loops. I couldn’t figure out what was bothering me, but I think I finally have the answer.
I feel invisible.
I’m going to try to put this into words, even if it’s not perfectly said, without it sounding like I’m whining or looking for attention, because that’s not it. It’s quieter than that. It’s a subtle shift I’m feeling in my older age, where I feel less seen, less heard, and not taken as seriously as I once was.
For example, in public, I blend in. There are fewer smiles and acknowledgments from people younger than me (which, at this point, is most of the population). I get it. I didn’t pay attention to women my age when I was younger either, because, if I’m being honest - and this is going to sound awful - I thought they were dull background noise. GAH! That sure hits differently when you’re on the other side.
There’s also the part no one says out loud: That moment when you realize you’ve crossed into that stage where men don’t notice you the way they used to. I’m not saying I want to be leered at or need someone to yell “Nice ass” when I walk past (when was the last time I heard that?) I’m talking about those small passing glances that used to happen back when I was cellulite-free and curvy, yet still skinny enough to hula-hoop inside a Cheerio. They were a harmless little ego boost.
Slowly, painfully, disgustingly, I’ve become a victim of Invisible Woman Syndrome and living in a society that makes older females my age feel less relevant, less interesting…less all around.
I’ve been reduced to a stereotype. I’m someone who colors her gray hair, meets friends for lunch, decorates her house, plays Mah Jong… and isn’t seen as much beyond that. As if those things somehow cancel out everything else I’ve done and was.
I’m no longer a young, hip, chic-as-shit human, and I’m no longer defined by how I look (not necessarily a bad thing), or by the way I’m raising children. Somehow, that gets translated into being nothing. All the years of education, experience, perspective, and hard-earned wisdom don’t seem to carry the weight they should. It feels as if my value has quietly been discounted, and I’m expected to fade away and settle into the well-feathered nest of old age.
And the more I sit with it, the more I realize this isn’t personal, it’s cultural.
We live in a culture that ties a woman’s value to youth, appearance, and roles - and when those shift, the respect fades with them. Meanwhile, men are more often valued for what they’ve done, and that respect tends to stick. The imbalance is hard to ignore.
Does it make me angry? Definitely. Will I accept it? Maybe. But probably not.
So f*ck you, aging, and f*ck you, misogynistic society. No, thank you. To every older woman feeling this way—you’re not invisible. You’re still here, still shining. You keep on throwing those sparkles in the darkness.
If You’d Like To Read More About Aging and Invisibility:
The Question Isn’t Who’s Going To Let You, It’s Who’s Going to Stop You
When Life Doesn’t Go As Planned and Something Better Shows Up