The Invisible Woman...

What is with people these days?

It seems to me as though everywhere I go, people are trying to walk through me. It's as if I don't exist, or perhaps everyone thinks that we're still in the forties and black folk should willingly contort themselves and hop into the gutters to make way for the white man and his woman walking by. I mean, WTF?

You know what I'm talking about: for example, when you're trying to get off the metro (or subway if you're not from Montreal) and you've got seven jokers trying to get on as you're getting out. Or how about when you're walking on the sidewalk and three friends are walking abreast towards you and taking up the entire sidewalk, but they have no intention of making way for you to pass by, or they might exert themselves to create a six-inch space for you to squeeze through. I mean come on, I'm thinner, but not that much thinner.

And even though I know it's wrong, I've stopped contorting myself to make way for ignorant people. Since I've improved my eating and exercise habits, I'm actually full of happy endorphins and am generally in a really good mood almost all of the time. But this is just one of those things that sparks mindless rage in me and I go from 0-60 in seconds. What's more, now that I have greater muscle mass and density, Tamara+momentum=a considerable force indeed. And people who try to walk through me go flying. And woe betide the person who even begins to get a little bit shirty with me about it. Righteous anger trumps carelessness and insouciance every time.

Maybe it's just that people are more and more self-absorbed, or have an inflated sense of entitlement. I mean, hey I can appreciate sometimes wishing that you were the only one on the sidewalk or getting on or off the metro, but wishing doesn't make it so. Ignoring me doesn't make me disappear. I should be the bigger person, I should be humble, because in the grand scheme of things, what does it matter? Who do I think I am, anyway? But when it comes down to it, I'm just sick of being made to feel invisible, or as though I don't have a right to be here. Because I am a person with value, as much (or as little, depending on how you look at it) as anyone else. I don't want your space, I don't need all space or even think that your space belongs to me. I just want my space. I'm happy to invite you in, but no one else is entitled to it. Shoot, I'm not even asking for a lot of it. Just enough room to move, room to breathe.

Argh, sometimes misanthropy just makes sense.