I make no secret of the fact I am an admirer of Kim K. Even when she looks like she’s accidentally left the house in her undergarments, I admire her brazenness. Although I would never consider myself able to carry it off.

I deliberately dress down, I don’t like to be noticed, I wear clothes which hide my cleavage, I tuck my hair under a baseball cap, I wear oversize sunglasses, I don’t wear makeup, I mostly wear all black clothes, I am happy when I fade into the background. I even get anxious if I find myself in an inexplicably empty bar or restaurant because I don’t want the staff to pay unnecessary attention to me.

Standing out has become something to be scared of, and I don’t know why. And I don’t know if it’s just me.

Is it my age? I certainly wouldn’t wear a lot of the corset style tops of my uni years now, but then again back then I wouldn’t have had the confidence to go for dinner in a pair of sailng shorts and a hoodie with my dreadlocked hair knotted on the top of my head.

So, is it confidence? I don’t think so, I may still be on the introvert spectrum but I’ve quit my job twice in as many years to move to an island on my own, and the job I’ve chosen is one which means I have to speak to strangers, in more than just passing.

So, is it me? Perhaps. I’m no outstanding beauty, but I don’t take compliments well. I prefer to go unnoticed, to blend in. To see and be unseen, to appreciate the surroundings and be thought of as no more than a polite guest, and if you allow me that courtesy, to pass through, say thank you, don’t ask or suspect what I am hiding under this disguise of mine, then that’s the way I might let you see the real me.

Invisibility is a virtue.

Except on work days: then, I’m Maddie.