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Ms. Cellophane

Feeling Alone in the Crowd

By Natasha CouohPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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Ms. Cellophane
Photo by Molly Belle on Unsplash

In middle school one of my favorite musicals was "Chicago" with music from John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb, and book by Ebb and Bob Fosse. One song that particularly caught my attention was "Mr. Cellophane." It was the only song that talked about real feelings and part of me could relate to that feeling of invisibility. It wasn't until recently that I understood the falsity and deceit of this song as well.

For those of you who haven't heard the song, it is sung by a man who was used by his cheating wife to escape death row and then was scorned. Even in the middle of a media frenzy no one saw him or how he felt. Yet the jazz style of the song fit in too well with the chipper, upbeat songs of deceit that make up the rest of the song. I know now that that level of pain could never be adequately expressed by a song with that style or tune.

What I didn't realize when I was in middle school is that being an outcast and feeling invisible amongst a crowd are two different levels of pain. Even though I didn't have many friends in middle school or high school, I was still acknowledged. I had some friends who liked spending time with me. I had teachers who acknowledged me, some even worried about me. I had peers who hated me, were jealous of me, competed with me, or made a point of ignoring me. There were those who didn't know I existed, but there were too many who did for me to ever question it.

Feeling invisible, especially in a crowd, that's different. When no one notices you, notices your feelings, you start to wonder if they exist, if you exist. It is worse with people who love you. You think that these people love you, know you so well, they should SEE you. They should say hi to you when they come home, say bye when they leave. They should see when you are hurting, they should understand how you feel. But sometimes they don't. After all, everyone has their own lives, their own preoccupations, and their own pain. Sometimes they can't see you. But it still hurts like a bitter betrayal.

It is hard to wonder if they actually love you, if they value your presence in their lives or simply tolerate it. Would they even notice if you weren't there anymore? How could they if they don't notice you when you are there? It is hard not to wonder if you exist, if your feelings are unimportant.

When you believe your feelings are unimportant, that you are unimportant, you bottle it all up inside yourself. You try to hide even more from the world that doesn't see you, maybe because it becomes terrifying that someone might see you. But it eats away at you.

Some fade away. They believe they are invisible so much they disappear from this world. I almost disappeared once. Some can't bottle up anymore and they explode. I've done that too. Some people find someone who see them and they begin to heal. I've done that too.

I think for now I want to be someone who can see myself. I'll know that there is always at least one person in this world who sees me, who sees how I feel, who sees the pain and the beauty, and who loves me. I will be that person for myself, because if I see myself, if I love myself, I can start seeing all the people the people who love me again.

humanity
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About the Creator

Natasha Couoh

I have always known that I am a writer. I let others persuade me that I am not good enough to be a writer, my spelling is...bad, and I have never understood grammar, but now I am here to prove that I can be anything and everything.

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