The Quiet Moment You Realise You’ve Become Invisible

A few thoughts about change, acceptance, and learning to laugh along the way.

The other day I was standing in line at the vegetable counter when something odd happened. The assistant weighing the vegetables looked straight past me and started helping the person behind me. For a brief moment, I wondered if I had somehow become invisible.

As we grow older, something subtle begins to change. You notice it in small ways. People interrupt you more easily. Conversations move past you. Where we once moved easily through the centre of things, we may suddenly feel as though we are drifting quietly into the background — unnoticed, almost transparent. Sometimes it feels as though people are looking through you rather than at you. At first, it can feel unsettling.

But the funny thing is that many women eventually discover something unexpected: a kind of freedom. And of course, becoming invisible has its advantages. You can observe people without them noticing. You hear conversations that were never meant for you. It almost feels like developing a secret superpower.

As we mature — aging like fine wine… or perhaps mature cheese — we transform into something different.

We become proud owners of an impressive collection of reading glasses. We faithfully fill our pill holders every week. Lap blankets suddenly become essential companions. And somehow, our collection of pets seems to grow.

Just the other day, I was at Lourensford Wine Farm. As I was leaving, I was searching for the slot to insert my parking ticket so the boom gate would lift. The security guard dryly pointed out, “Ma'am, you just have to scan your ticket — there is no slot.”

Recently, I asked an older friend if she ever feels invisible, hoping to find a kindred spirit. Her answer completely surprised me. “Not at all,” she said confidently. I thought about that for a moment, and then the realisation hit me. Of course she doesn’t feel invisible. She always wears super tight-fitting clothes — you have no choice but to notice her.

It’s funny how the younger generation sometimes assumes older people need help with everything. I started working back in 1985, right at the dawn of the computer age in South Africa. Those computers were enormous, with huge monitors. On my first day at my first job, my boss told me, “Nobody here knows anything about computers. You’re on your own.” Talk about being thrown into the deep end!

But honestly, it turned out to be a fantastic learning experience. I had to figure things out myself, and I loved every minute of it.

These days, when a younger person insists on helping me, I don’t complain. With age comes wisdom — and I graciously accept the help, even when I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself. I have always kept up with technology and plan to keep doing so. I love learning new things. After all, who wants to become dependent?

But perhaps invisibility is not the whole story.

Perhaps we are simply stepping into a different season of life — one where attention matters less and understanding matters more. Being less visible to the world sometimes allows us to see things more clearly ourselves. The noise fades. The small moments become more meaningful. And perhaps, in this quieter space, we learn more about ourselves than ever before.

Have you ever had a moment where you felt this shift?

— Frannie ☕