The Invisibility Cloak

I have an invisibility cloak. 

On Tuesday morning, Amber prayed for me "to have a good day relaxing at home." On Thursday morning, Jay prayed for everyone else in the room but forgot to pray for me at all. Both kids' prayers outline the invisibility of a good mom. One one hand, there's the assumption that I spend all day relaxing at home while my family is working and learning and living. On the other hand, there's the complete lack of notice. These two attitudes weave together to create the fascinating fabric of my invisibility cloak.

My invisibility cloak is almost 14 years old. It's different than Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.

The first time it enveloped me was a few minutes after Jay was born. The bustling delivery room was focused on me, helping me, supporting me, and surrounding me up until I pushed that baby out. I was handed this wet squalling sweet baby and the attention in the room shifted. The focus was no longer on helping the new mom; it was about checking the new baby. I remember feeling slightly offended and left out that nobody seemed to care about me anymore, or all of my aching gushing body parts that I had sacrificed for that squishy tiny baby. That's when the invisibility cloak first appeared.

My invisibility cloak isn't a permanent wardrobe item; it comes and goes. When Jeff writes me a love letter, spends time with me, or runs back for one more kiss before leaving for work, my invisibility cloak evaporates. When Jeff has long exhausting work days and/or health struggles, my invisibility cloak gets thicker. When my kids hug me and say they love me, my head and heart peek out of the cloak. When I go on a rare trip and come back, my kids are so happy to see me, the invisibility cloak blows away as they charge over to hug me and welcome me home. When my family leaves the house in a cluttered mess, my invisibility cloak gains an extra layer. When I have a heart to heart conversation with my husband, my Mom, a sister, or a dear friend, my invisibility cloak fades away. 

My babies were all inside the cloak with me for a short while. It was our own cozy cuddly little world and I loved that time with them. Then they learned how to walk and left my cloak forever. They have had trouble seeing me ever since.

But kids are bursting with faith and trust, so even though these small humans couldn't see me, they knew I was there, and not only that, they expected me to be there. They expected me to be there for them, and I was. I still am! They still expect me to be there for them, and I still am.

Now that these gorgeous bright children of mine are almost as tall as me, I find my invisibility cloak chaffing every now and then. My cloak doesn't seem to loosen as often. Being the soothing steady strong [invisible] support for three kids and a husband takes a lot of energy! It is a painfully beautiful experience, being depended upon so thoroughly while simultaneously being completely overlooked. It is my own personal refiner's fire, finding myself and caring for myself and finding meaning for myself while being taken for granted.

Sometimes the planets and calendar malign for me to rip my invisibility cloak into shreds and demand acknowledgement, assistance, and love from my family. That never satisfies--when I am driven by frustration to demand things that are only meaningful when they are freely given. Demanding love turns my invisibility cloak into a noose. The best way to loosen that noose, I've discovered, is taking care of myself as well as I take care of my home and family. I can't force anyone to see through my invisibility cloak, but I can take care of myself in there so the cloak becomes a comfy blanket that I don't mind wearing.

So I find ways to hang up my invisibility cloak regularly, at least for a little while. I draw. I play the piano. I run. I do yoga. I watch K-dramas. I coach sometimes. I serve at church. I talk with beloved friends. I hug my husband. I read good books. I study the scriptures. I pray. I pay attention for moments where I can connect with my family members individually and wrap them up in my cloak with me again for a little while. 

*In case it got lost in the metaphor, this post is not me surrendering to being overlooked/silenced; it is me actively choosing my own path toward how to be there for my loved ones and for myself.