Mrs Cellophane

...Shoulda been my name.

Just a pondering.

I really feel throughout my professional life that nobody gives a shit about me.

I worked in a recruitment consultancy business after I graduated. I was swindled out of a load of commission by someone who later was promoted to being the branch manager. I left.

I then went to the public sector. I was ok for a while, but then the person I shared an office with went on Maternity Leave and I was left, stuck in a room on my own. For a year. I am a social creature, and thrive on human company... and this bit of the public sector was a Careers Service so is supposed to know about Psychometric testing. I left because nobody gave a shit.

I went to a marketing environment, where they just didn't "get" my skillset, and I left after 6 months. This really caused me to doubt myself, but I found out about 2 years later that I had inherited a poisoned chalice, and there had been a further 4 people in the role since I left. Ho hum.

Then I went into retail. I started as a trainee manager, then I was a Concession Manager, then an Acting Assistant Manager. Then I went on Maternity leave.

No leaving do. No cakes. No gift. Not even a card. I worked my fucking arse off, and I got nothing back in terms of recognition or acknowledgement.

I went back after Mat leave - and nobody gave a shit enough to call me and say "hi" on my first day back. No handover note from the outgoing manager. Nothing. No area manager.

They then cut the branch hours down to such an extent that although I was supposed to be a manager, I never saw any of the people I was supposed to be managing. 6 hours, 3 times a week, on my own. Lovely!

I am sick of being undervalued. Sick of it. But it's become a self-perpetuating cycle. The more I am undervalued, the less I value myself. The more I am sidelined. It's horrible that my entire self-worth depends on what other people think of me.

Through being depressed, I don't go out any more. Circles of friends have stopped inviting me. I've been culled by my best mate.

I am sick of being overlooked. By my Mum (yes, she has a favourite. It isn't me.), by my colleagues, my managers at work... But the two people who don't undervalue me are my husband and my son. Yes, I am the worst Mum in the world when I am wiping my son's face, or trying to get him to sleep in his own cot... but when he's upset or hurt, the quickest thing to make him better is a cuddle from me.

(And I know he'll read this), Dearest husband, whenever you overlook an anniversary, or a birthday, or a religious festival, or are late home, or feel the need to apologise for being yourself, or feel the need to apologise for not being yourself, or when you don't unroll your shirt sleeves before putting them in the wash, or you leave your socks rolled into a ball in the washing basket, or you sleep in a bit longer than you thought you would... don't feel guilty, just stick another I.O.U. in the eternity ring piggy bank. First silly bonus you get is to feed my magpie habit. ;-)

Oh, and I might have a few people say to me that they love me, and that I should not listen to all of the bad stuff I think is true about me - if 99 people tell you that you look fabulous, and one person says you look fucking ugly, whose words are going to be ringing in your ears for the rest of the night? Same here, only it's not words, it's actions, and I'm too much of a doormat to say anything.

If someone stood up in a crowd
And raised his voice up way out loud
And waved his arm and shook his leg
You'd notice him

If someone in the movie show
Yelled "Fire in the second row
This whole place is a powder keg!"
You'd notice him

And even without clucking like a hen
Everyone gets noticed, now and then,
Unless, of course, that personage should be
Invisible, inconsequential me!

Cellophane
Mister Cellophane
Shoulda been my name
Mister Cellophane
'Cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there...

I tell ya
Cellophane
Mister Cellophane
Shoulda been my name
Mister Cellophane
'Cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there...

Suppose you was a little cat
Residin' in a person's flat
Who fed you fish and scratched your ears?
You'd notice him

Suppose you was a woman, wed
And sleepin' in a double bed
Beside one man, for seven years
You'd notice him

A human being's made of more than air
With all that bulk, you're bound to see him there
Unless that human bein' next to you
Is unimpressive, undistinguished
You know who...

Cellophane
Mister Cellophane
Shoulda been my name
Mister Cellophane
'Cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there...
I tell ya
Cellophane
Mister Cellophane
Shoulda been my name
Mister Cellophane
'Cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there
Never even know I'm there.

Hope I didn't take up too much of your time.