I’ve been ignored my whole life—from grade school all the way through to adulthood.
I’m the one kid in the class who didn’t get a valentine card from any other kid in school. The teacher would quickly write one so I’d get at least one. Wow, that still saddens me.
It’s never gotten better. People even ignore me when I’m right in front of them (oh, the stories I can tell).
I assumed it was the wall I put up when I was in the closet so no one would discover my sexuality.
When I came out of the closet, however, nothing got better. Gay guys ignore me too.
I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure out why. Was it my looks? My attitude? Maybe I smell weird. Maybe I’m just exceedingly average. The ignoring does seem to occur in diverse situations so it’s something I’m doing or some vibe I’m giving out.
I tried dressing better, hanging out in gay spaces. It’s not like I’m a quiet, introvert—I’m a fun, extrovert (I think). While I have friends, I usually have to be the one who has to arrange and call to get together with friends.
I’ve coped by aiming for excellence at work (so colleagues are forced to see me) and being as kind as I can be to others because I’ve experienced how unkind people make me feel.
I am happy that, as I’m getting older (now, in my late 30’s), I’m caring less and less. Every now and again, I get thrown right back into it.
Today, I walked around in Manhattan. It’s Pride Month and there are gays everywhere. I didn’t even get one acknowledgment that I existed. Lots of people glancing and then looking away.
I want desperately not to care. Thankfully, I have a dog who seems to love me.