Except, I'm a brunette. Doesn't seem to make any difference, though. I have been the self-proclaimed Black Sheep for years. And I only say "self-proclaimed" because no one else dares to admit it to my face. Yet actions speak louder than words, and sometimes this is screamed to me without anyone ever saying a word.
Believe it or don't, but ordinarily, I prefer to be in the background. There is satisfaction in believing that even without the recognition, I play a vital role in whatever may be taking place. I prefer to serve in the kitchen instead of as a speaker. Fewer people notice when you screw up out of sight, and sometimes screwing up is the only thing I do well. I suppose one could argue that I have chosen to be unnoticed. I'll accept that. However, there is a definite line between "unnoticed" and "overlooked".
When one is unnoticed, people are unaware of their presence. When one is overlooked, people are fully aware of their presence, yet choose not to acknowledge them. Therein lies the current situation in what feels like most aspects of my life. Thankfully, not within the walls of my home. Now if only I could figure out a way to stay there...
Where my extended family is concerned, the first dark blotch on my clean white wool was teenage pregnancy out of wedlock. That blotch got bigger when I married the guy who knocked me up. I believe in my heart of hearts that it fries certain individuals that my marriage has outlasted theirs and that I love and support my husband no matter their opinions of him or his passions in life. In spite of the fact that I had the most academic potential of the kids in my family, I did not pursue a college degree or some high-paid profession. And apparently, I should have made more of an effort to keep in touch with relatives that have never made an effort to keep in touch with me. It seems as if I have been one disappointment after another ~ and my hair seems to be turning a beautiful shade of carrot-top.
Even in my workplace I have this feeling lately. Because of a family shin-dig, I missed our office holiday party this year. Our boss had personalized t-shirts made for the staff with less-than-politically-correct statements fitting to the individual's personality. When co-workers where talking about what their shirts said, they asked me about mine. I'm not sure I want to know what mine would say, which is cool, since I haven't gotten one. Today I made mention to my boss that the noise level in the hall outside my treatment room was getting a little loud at times and asked if we could remind the staff to be mindful of when messages were in session. Later in the shift, 2 of my co-workers were opening mocking the situation right in front of me. Though I hope it was intended to be in jest, I was thoroughly unamused. There are times when I feel like I am not catty enough to work in an office staffed almost entirely with women. There is a reason I like being closed up in my bat-cave ~ the sun can't bleach my black wool in there.
Yeah, I know, I'm the only one rocking this pity-party. I guess I want to be shown that I am valued, not out of responsibility or obligation, but just because I am.
