Have you ever thought about having a superpower? To be super strong like Superman, or incredibly fast like the Flash? Growing up, I always thought having a superpower would be the greatest thing in the world. After seeing The Incredibles, nothing made nine-year-old me happier than pretending I was Frozone freezing things. I sat in front of the mirror for hours, convinced that I had some sort of power; slowly, that sort of imagination faded away.

As I grew older, I was exposed to more of the world. There were good memories: meeting friends, extra-curricular clubs, graduating high school, learning to drive, falling for my first crush. Then there were bad memories: falling for my first crush, leaving the “bubble” of high school, growing up, etc. Then I realized if you put good and evil on a scale, evil is heavier. Evil is everywhere. But evil doesn’t necessarily mean to worst in someone or of a situation. It is the dichotomy to good. By that definition, it is everything that isn’t good. That got the nine-year-old imaginations flowing again. If there’s evil, then the one with a superpower must be there to defeat it, right?

I saw an anonymous post on Facebook: “A lion doesn’t need to prove that it’s a threat, you already know what a lion is capable of.” To me, this represents those special people who go about their everyday lives with superpowers. My parents are two prime examples: Mom whose intelligence seems to know no bounds when she researches and Dad who has the power to do anything he puts his mind to. The epitome of a jack-of-all-trades. Then there are those in my life who don’t know their superpowers, but I do. My best friends are special in that way. They each possess something completely unique, yet they couldn’t be more similar in how they act with me. But now I sit here and wonder: do I have a superpower, if so, what is it?

If you could have any superpower in your imagination, what would choose? Super-strength? Flying? Master of an element? Here’s what you shouldn’t choose: invisibility.

To be invisible is something that isn’t purely a physical difference. It’s not something that you can just turn on and off like a light switch. There are those in this world who are invisible. The starry night veiled by the clouds. But being invisible happens every day: being the last one to know something, being forgotten, not talking to anyone on a regular basis, the ability to go through high school with no one being able to remember your name. To be invisible is to be alone, to be unseen. To those who enjoy their own company, like myself, it is a refreshing taste of peace.

But being able to turn invisible is awesome, I hear you argue. Think of all the things you’d be able to do. You’ll be able to sneak into movies, hide from people you don’t want to talk to, get out of awkward situations by just disappearing, and pranking your friends. It would be loads of fun. To this: what happens when you do it all and you have nothing left to do? What happens if you can’t return to being visible?

What being invisible means to me is to get away from the world. Like climbing a mountain and looking down into the valley below, taking in the breathtaking view. I look down at the world and I see everyone happily living their lives, but I don’t see me. I see the seasons change, people change; the world getting older. It’s like taking yourself out of a portrait, all you’re left with is what’s in the background. For me, I see those few who’ve made life memorable. To those few I’ve known for most of my life, to the ones who I met only recently yet feels like a lifetime. Between it all there have been DQ runs, summer movies, and laughing with one another during our college poetry class.

Yet, if I had a choice, I would have my superpower be invisible. To me, I can live with the fact of being invisible. I have come to realize that few people have me as one of their first thoughts or even their second. I’ve gone days without talking to people, even a couple of weeks. Some people don’t have time and others choose not to converse with me. It’s why I’m okay with my superpower being invisible; it’s something I already live with. To those who see that as depressive and just plain sad, look again. I see it as something that is halfway between good and evil. I’m no superhero, but I’m not a villain. I’m neutral. I look on a world that’s too busy, and I’m standing right there in it, right in plain view.