How to Vanish in Plain Sight

Enter every room quietly.

Always stay quiet and listen.

Let others tell your story,

edit your pauses,

supply the meaning.

Do not interrupt.

Do not correct.

Nod along, agree gently,

even when the details are wrong

and you can feel the ending being rewritten

without your consent.

Remember which thoughts cause discomfort

when spoken.

File those away.

Label them too much, unnecessary, impolite.

Rehearse the approved smiles—

the one for smoothing over pauses,

another that signals no trouble here, keep going,

and the most useful one of all,

the one that says,

“I’m fine… I’m fine,”

until even you start to believe it.

Speak softly.

Apologize preemptively.

Apologize after.

Apologize just in case.

Call this contract to stay small

so others can appear big:

politeness.

Keep mistaking compliance for kindness.

Trust that silence is safer than saying

“no,”

or “not quite,”

or “actually,”

or anything that might introduce friction

into the room.

Watch how quickly and completely

you will disappear—

  vanish in plain sight,

  present, pleasant, invisible—

   if you don’t insist

   on being seen