This post is available as a podcast here: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/s-p01/episodes/The-Greatest-Gift-e25np32

My views on people are largely influenced by my experience. The thing that I have somewhat “preached,” about seeing people, was also my greatest gift: being seen. My mom made me feel seen. I had an odd split between my parents. My dad made me feel like I could do anything, but he never really saw me. My mom seemed like a realist, but she always seemed to know me in ways no one else did. Like she understood. My grandma was my “soul sister” because we shared so much, but even she was dumbfounded by me sometimes. Somehow, my mom wasn’t. I think all of us just want to be seen. We want to be understood. I think that’s the greatest gift we can give people.

I think it may come with the territory of “mom,” but others can cultivate the same kind of connection. When my child was born I sensed them. I could sense things about them, what they needed, when they woke up, what they were feeling, etc. in ways I don’t fully understand. There’s a bond there that is deeper than we can explain. It’s probably the reason our relationships with our mothers are so important to our development. Mothers may get an advantage, but I was cultivating this kind of connection with people long before I became a mother.

Empathy plays a large role in my ability to “see” people. I think a sense of groundedness and presence is vital to cultivate that kind of connection. It requires setting all my personal things (feelings, needs, distractions, etc.) aside and focusing in on what the other person is experiencing and needing. If you’ve never done this, it might sound bizarre. However, it’s precisely the kind of exercise recommended for actors. Stepping outside oneself to see and feel the experience of someone else; for an actor this exercise gives them insight for characters they portray on the stage, but for me it also provided a way for me to connect with and support those around me.

This same gift is the mark of an amazing friend. Friends work to support each other; we might use our experiences and perspectives, but we try to step outside ourselves and help our friends. That help isn’t driven by a personal desire to affect the outcome, it’s driven by a desire to help our friend. The best friends look for the best help they can give us that fits our needs and perspectives, and they call us out when we’re being delusional (fooling ourselves somehow.) Why? Because they see us.

Intimacy comes from being seen, and it’s the reason that we are drawn in when we feel seen. It feels safe, secure. I rarely feel seen, and that is my own fault. In times when I felt seen, it always came with some other rejection. My mom may have seen much of my core self, but she rejected my singing. My RSD took that too personally. I struggle to show my whole self, and I know I’m not alone in that. It’s so incredibly hard to tear down our walls and be our full, glorious, authentic selves. If you, like me, suffer from anything like RSD: I’m sorry. It’s extra hard when we have extreme reactions to small rejections and want to hide those parts of ourselves indefinitely after. We don’t have to.

Seeing others comes much easier for me than allowing others to see me. I became so accustomed to showing only my best parts that I didn’t know how to admit weakness or ask for help. I’m learning, still. I’m still afraid that those parts of myself will ruin me. Who isn’t? The only way we work through that fear is by taking risks: showing ourselves, piece by piece. I hope you are as surprised as I am; people accept us. Mess and all.

This week’s story is about a time when I felt seen.

Have you ever had friends that surprised you by how well they knew you? I have. Especially when I was in undergrad, where I was more comfortable being my weird self, but still keeping a lot under the surface. In my last year of undergrad my boyfriend bought a house with two of his friends. I knew all three of them well because we played Dungeons and Dragons together weekly. One was also his roommate prior to the house purchase, so we knew each other pretty well, but weren’t close. I rented a room in their house after they purchased it, so I had my own space, but we all hung out together a lot.

I’m pretty good at computers, but I’m not anything special. I built my desktop in undergrad with help from a few friends that knew more than me – but I did put it together. I’m still proud of that. Anyway, I needed a laptop, and they convinced me to get an IBM Thinkpad and put Ubuntu on it. Today I would be able to do this on my own, but I needed their help then. So, my boyfriend’s roommate-turned-homeowner-partner did the install for me. I honestly still feel just how seen I felt when he went to show me the new computer set up and he made my password bluegarliccat… (No, of course I haven’t used that password ever again.)

It made me feel SO seen. I was stunned. I love blue, garlic, and cats. Obviously, I love a lot of other things, too. At the time, no one had shown me that they saw what I liked to that level. He was observant and a great friend – even though I always thought of him as an extended friend through my boyfriend. We’re still friends, and he still lives in that house. When I asked him about this story he said when he did the install he’d recently read this comic by xkcd so he chose my favorite color, food, and animal. Those are the kind of friends to hold onto – the ones that make you feel seen.

Honestly, those are the kind of people to hold onto. Friends, family, lovers, teachers, etc. The role is less important than the connection.

I hope someone makes you feel seen today. Love, -S.