The Super Power of the Invisible Middle Aged Woman

What Mel Did - Morgan 22nd birthday and Bermuda Triangle age

I am definitely at the age I call my ‘Bermuda Triangle Age.’ The age where middle-aged women can often feel invisible.

Friday was my lovely daughter’s 22nd birthday. In that joy, I am lamenting the passing of a year since she was 21 and, naturally, the incredulity of twenty-two years having orbited the sun.

I remember when she was a baby, her father would shop with her in one of those impossibly chic baby carriers strapped to his alpha male chest. He made sure she always faced outwards in this human sling, not so much to secure her a more interesting view of the world, as to attract maximum attention. My husband, blonde, blue eyed, 6ft 4’, and our caramel-brown, mixed heritage baby with a head of bouncing chocolate curls. They made an attractive couple.

(And, yes, my husband used our baby as a magnet to get better service in shops from otherwise indifferent shop assistants and to attract women who became helpless at the sight of Man with Baby.)

Whilst not my birthday, today I am definitely at the age I call my ‘Bermuda Triangle Age.’ The age where middle-aged women can often feel invisible. This disappearing act is even more pronounced when out and about with beautiful young things. I have two of those.

Lois Wise said it well with her anecdote:

“Age becomes reality when you hear someone refer to that attractive woman standing next to the woman in the green dress… and you find you’re the one in the green dress.”

Ouch!

I was reminded of my Bermuda Triangle Age when out with the birthday girl one day. She was trying on a coat in front of the shop floor’s full length mirror. Her once cropped chocolate brown curls now flowing freely down to her waist in natural shades of molten dark chocolate and burnished gold. Her lithe body twisted and turned for a better view, totally unaware of the stir she was causing.

Still twisting and turning undecided on the camel coat, my daughter did not notice the older man who had double-backed to be near her.

By the time he’d made his way to Ladies’ Coats, I had used my Super Power of The Invisible Middle Aged Woman to throw a force field around my daughter as he inched closer.

That day I saw the age of near invisibility as a gift from God to help us middle-aged caregivers protect our young from fox-like predators. Fox-like predators who, so fixated on their young prey, fail to notice the woman in the green dress waiting to eat them up.

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