I was the one driving everyone home and still felt like no one really saw me

Dear Delyara, It was after a family gathering. Everyone was tired, half-chatting, half-falling asleep in the car. I was doing the practical thing — driving, paying attention, checking mirrors, making sure everyone got back safely. It was ordinary. Useful. Responsible. And in the middle of all that usefulness, I felt lonely. Not because anyone had hurt me. Because the whole evening had passed without anyone really asking how I was beneath the role I was performing. Mother, driver, wife, daughter, organiser, the one with tissues, the one with snacks, the one who remembers coats and timings and who sits where. I can move through a whole event being deeply needed and not emotionally touched in the places that matter most. That is a very strange loneliness. To be central and unseen at the same time. I think many women live there more than they ever say.