Monday, 24 June 2019

Can You See Me? By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

Invisible Woman

Invisible woman
seen just as "the wife";
can't anyone see that
she lives her own life?
She keeps a low profile -
at least, so it seems -
so nobody's really
aware of her dreams.
A part of the background;
appendage on arm,
and if you ignore her
you mean her no harm.
Just try to remember
her life is her own
and there's much more to her
than ever is shown.
Her life in the shadows
can often demean.
Invisible women
deserve to be seen.

By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, June 24, 2019

For the past six months I've been asked one question repeatedly. This question comes from people who've known me forever - and thus should know better than to ask it - and from people who met me two minutes before posing the question. This question has become almost the only question most people ask me these days, and for that reason it has grown increasingly difficult to answer it gracefully...

"How do you like being the Mayor's wife?"

It's kind of a loaded question, especially given the fact that it is inevitably asked in public, and with an upward lilt in the questioners voice that makes it clear that they expect me to respond with excitement - and unfortunately for them, enthusiasm for that particular title is really hard for me to muster.

Let me clarify, for the record, that generally speaking I like being married to my husband. That's why we were married for thirty years before he was voted Mayor of North Perth. When you ask how I enjoy being married to "the mayor", you are implying that I should somehow enjoy my marriage so much more than I used to, because now he's "important", and I, by extension as "his wife", am more important than I was too.

I don't see it that way at all. My husband is no more important to me than he was before he was elected, and I am definitely no more important than I ever was. To me he is still Todd, and if you want to know the truth, he is just a busier and more stressed out version of the man he's always been.

I'm not Hilary Clinton - I didn't hit the campaign trail tirelessly to ensure he'd win - because it didn't matter that much to me whether he did or not. His victory was due to his hard work, and I had very little to do with it.

Please don't ever refer to me as "The First Lady of North Perth". I don't like titles at all, and have never even liked being called "Mrs. Kasenberg".

I am Sharon.

Let me tell you why I feel so adamantly opposed to being identified as "the mayor's wife".

In my younger days, as a new wife and mother, I chose to stay home with my children. This decision entailed some financial sacrifice, and some sacrifice of self-hood. I became one of a legion of invisible women; a housewife. A "stay at home mom". People assumed I stayed home because I wasn't smart enough to get a job. Attending work functions with my husband was an excruciating chore. I dressed up as well as I could, stood at his side, and was introduced to people who didn't even bother to engage me in small talk once they realized I was "just a mom".

For most of my life I belonged to a very patriarchal faith. It took me many years, within that organization, to be known as more than my husband's wife, or my sons' mother. Finally, after a few decades, I became known as a woman who possessed a few skills of my own - I could speak well, I could teach classes, I was a good baker and a writer of poetry. When I left that faith, I went through a period of intense self re-discovery, and I began to really forge my own identity.

I embraced my Sharon-ness.

Just when I was starting to feel that Sharon was finally being seen as her own person, an entity seen beyond the context of wife and mother, my husband became mayor. And once again I was relegated to "wife of" status.

I am proud of my husband's accomplishments, but his position as mayor has as little to do with me as his position at any of his other jobs has.

It might seem glamorous to be the mayor, or by extension the mayor's wife, but it isn't. If I were Melania Trump, with an incredible figure, make-up artists at my disposal, and designers all vying for me to wear their labels, I might get a whole lot more excited about being able to attend a gala every now and then, but none of those things apply to me. I have body issues, and like countless other fifty-something ladies, I try on everything in my closet before I go out, in hopes that I'll hit on something that doesn't magnify every imperfection. And putting on make-up is pretty hard when you need to wear your reading glasses to see what you're doing. I just don't love feeling like I'm on display, and hobnobbing with "important" people and making small talk isn't my cuppa tea. I'm an introvert who would always prefer to stick with a small group of trusted friends.

I know there are plenty of women who think they would totally groove on a title that I don't appreciate. They think it would be fun to be recognized, but miss the fact that with recognition there comes a lack of privacy. It gets frustrating to have people stop to chat up, or worse - complain to - your husband when you're trying to buy groceries or enjoy a social evening together. They might think that as wives they will get to influence decisions, but much of what is discussed in chambers can't even be shared. What I hear most as wife are his frustrations. I hear about all the things he'd like to do, but can't. I hear about the people who complain and sometimes harass him, and sometimes I even get to answer the home phone when people decide - erroneously I might add - that their complaints with the municipality will be handled faster if they go "straight to the top". (Obviously it's much more efficient to have the mayor make three or four calls to take care of your complaint than it is for you to just call the proper department directly, right?)

Here's the truth of the matter. My husband was more fun to be married to before he became mayor. He wasn't as busy, and we had more time to relax together. He wasn't as tired and stressed. I worried about his health and state of mind less when he was "just" my husband.

I'm not going to tell you that he doesn't enjoy a lot of his duties as mayor - he does enjoy a lot of "the job", and I'm happy about that.

But for Sharon, being seen as an appendage at social events is not fun. Being alone a lot of the time is not fun. Worrying that I'll say or do the wrong thing while being recognized as "the wife of..." is stressful.

I am not a pale reflection of my spouse. I was my own person for more than twenty-five years before I became anyone's wife. I was the wife of Todd for more than three decades before he became a mayor. I don't ask to be held up as a role model, and I resent becoming invisible again.

So, when "the question" is on the tip of your tongue, fight the urge to ask it. There are so many better ways to initiate a conversation with me than by asking me how I feel to be "the wife of..."

I don't like feeling invisible. Tell me you can see me.