Nobody, call me Miss Nobody


I didn’t hear that for ages. I thought naively that respect crossed the mind of the indelicate. How wrong was I ! It was just the calm before getting thrown right in the middle of my forehead that I’m Nobody.

That I have nothing to say. That I’m just non-existent or barely noticed if what I cook taste good or not wanted.

I thought that in 2015, in a democracy, women had something to say. But not with everybody because for some of them I’m just Miss Nobody.

I don’t deserve apologies, I’m simply not in the room. I cannot say anything. No one is listening to what I’ve got to say.

I put my life between brackets, I was devoted to make it work.

But I’m done.

I’m counting the days.

Nobody, call me Miss Nobody.

The one. The only Miss Nobody.

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