There is no way to describe the feeling until it happens to you. My biggest concern is that invisibility is killing the souls of vital, incredible women 50 years old and beyond, everywhere.
You may not even notice that it has happened to you, but another clue is that you go from dressing to highlight some of your lovely features, to dressing so that you hide every part of you that you hate.
Yes, hate is a very strong word, however, it would appear that it is wired into a woman's DNA.
Hate yourself first and then see if you can be convinced that you aren't worth being burned at the stake.
We can convince ourselves that we are so horrible, that no matter how many times we are told we are beautiful, we will set fire to the first piece of kindling and end up a modern-day Joan of Arc.
I highly recommend, if you would like to become invisible and have your self-esteem kicked to touch every day of your life, that you should parent a teenage girl on your own.
Any ideas that I had about looking halfway decent as a 51-year-old woman and walking out into the world with confidence and style have been categorically smashed.
My sense of humour is left of centre, I have always been a parent who encouraged creativity and I encouraged my girl do the same.
She is 17 and I am surplus to her requirements, unless she needs a ride.
I'm not upset about that. My goal for my child was for her to feel incredible about herself and her skill-set and, most importantly, not to accept bad behaviour from a partner.
I didn't expect that by loving her and guiding her, my own self-confidence would be thrown by the wayside.
I didn't expect that by building her up, I would be thrown to the wolves.
That sucker punch of reality blew me out of the water. I hadn't realised the impact actually until she went away for these school holidays for 10 days.
There was nobody telling me I was uncool, out-of-date or simply dumb for not understanding Tik Tok.
I could make whatever meal I wanted (it usually involved cheese) and not have it criticised and if I wanted to go to bed at 8pm, I happily took myself off without being told that I was 'old' for liking my sleep.
I never criticised my mother, because if I had done so, my father would have come down on me like a tonne of bricks.
He has her back 100 per cent, but to be honest, it never crossed my mind to make her feel bad.
If you are lucky enough to have a partner who loves you, invisibility may not be an issue for you, because you have someone to tell you they love you, even if you have (like myself) blown out overnight and now resemble the Michelin Man.
There is a slight caveat here. I have also had the delight of living with a partner for two years, who only ever told me I looked nice twice.
Twice in two years. That my friends, is a soul killer.
There is a saving grace for the age of invisibility. Girlfriends.
They are there through thick and thin to build you up, support you and remind you that they 'see' you and your worth.
They will tell you if what you're wearing is a bit naff or fuddy-duddy, but somehow, it's okay coming from them and not a 17-year old.
They encourage you to be daring, fun and to not grow old gracefully.
The juxtaposition here is that you are generally so busy working and raising a teenager on your own that you have no time to spend with said girlfriends to fill up your feel-good tank. And fill it up they do.
Any time I have had the pleasure of catching up with my friends, I come away feeling happy and grateful with a pep in my step.
Every single time I find myself thinking that I should make the time to do it more often, to remind myself that we may be invisible to the naked eye, but to the ones who love us, we are very much not.
Age happens anyway and with it comes great change that we don't expect.
I have no problem with that, as such, but I do have a problem with not being 'seen' or validated.
The advice or opinions that come out of our invisible mouths are based on experience, a life that has been lived and mistakes we have made and learned from.
Generally, we only pass these nuggets of knowledge on to those we love to protect them and have them not make the same mistakes we did.
There is only one thing that can save me from invisibility. What I wear. Statement garments and a bit of sparkle. Now, if I could just find a shop called The Emperor's New Clothes, I'll be set.
