Silent & Visible

I met this old woman once, and, as old people often do, she told me everything about her life. When we were parting, she said: “What a decent and interesting young woman you are!” I realized I said no words other than “Oh!” “Yes” and “Wow!” during that conversation. So how could I have seemed interesting?

I think it was about my appearance. That day, I did not wear any attention-seeking makeup or clothes. I was wearing sweatpants, trainers, and a jean jacket. But I also have short messy blonde hair and quirky rings, which point out that on some days, I look very different — and possibly interesting.

I wish this old woman called me interesting because she was genuinely interested in talking to me. I wish I managed to put some meaningful words into the conversation. Yet I was silent. And she could only comment on my looks.

It reminded me of the book Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez. It talks about how data gaps make women invisible to those who build our world. For example, those who first clean the streets from snow for (male-driven) cars and then (female) pedestrians.

While Perez’ book cannot stop amusing me, as a woman, I don’t quite feel invisible. On the contrary, I often feel like the center of attention.

I could be wearing a pajama and a hoody with greasy hair and no makeup, and I will still get catcalled. I would be stared at, made comments upon, or even asked my name and phone number. I would be frustrated, and my Dad would say, “How are men supposed to meet you then?” And I just want them to treat me as a human. I don’t want to be an object for male subjects when I am actually a female subject with an object. And my object has nothing to do with men.

So I think women are visible, just not in the sense Perez wanted them to. But women are definitely silent.

And maybe women should be vocal. Maybe male-female interactions should be less about the man talking and looking at the woman and more about equal vocal and aesthetic interactions.

Maybe I want to spend an hour in a monologue with a pretty guy with him only saying “Oh,” “Wow,” and “Yes.”

So that when parting, I would tell him he's interesting.