Journal Entry 12: “She Forgot She Was There”

I was in 3 meetings today and no one said my name.

Not once.

But they said,
“We’ll go with your idea.”
“Let’s use that doc you drafted.”
“She’s probably already on top of it.”

…but I didn’t have a name.

Just a function.
A role.
A checkbox.

I used to think invisibility was better than being wrong.
Now I know it’s grief, wearing lipstick.

So tonight, I’m drinking tea.
Chamomile, motherwort, rose — all the plants that know how to mourn in silence.

I’m writing my own name at the top of this page.

Not because anyone else will see it.
But because I need to remember:

I’m still here.
Even if they forget me.

I will not forget me.

-Bleu

✨ Reflection:

“The last time I felt invisible was…”
Then ask: What would have helped me be seen gently?