I used to feel a thousand eyes resting on my back. They were shrouded in gossip and curiosity, always praying for just one fault. I hoped for the days when my memory would be forgotten and my self could rest in the peace of the anonymous.

Yet today I walk the grey, cracking pavements, tripping over on my own self doubt with not another’s judgement to break the frame. Yesterday I blamed my insecurities on others. Their words and evil deeds. Headline covered papers of spinach stuck between my teeth. That need for perfection now with consequences insubstantial found a home within my bones. To form that perfect golden light of fame with each breath and word and step I take.

To not another’s notice. I go to the supermarkets dressed in rags to buy the meals for the week. To my surprise, the cashier doesn’t glance at my attire or myself entirely as though my existence is only half there.

Yet I must revel in this freedom. Leave my house without a dozen guards and stylists critiquing my every move.

Yesterday I took a walk in the park. There were birds and sunlight that shone through the leaves. I could hear family’s arguments shouting and laughter. Someone dropped an ice cream. Nobody noticed.

Yet when I returned to my empty house, I questioned whether the walk had taken place. How can you prove a lifetime unnoticed?