I’ve always wanted someone to get me. To understand my inner workings. I wanted that love and validation, I wanted someone to tell me it is OK to be me. Growing up I never felt seen. I never truly understood myself or where I fit in this world. Coupled with a toxic environment and constantly being picked on by my cousins and siblings, I grew up, thinking something was wrong with me. I’ve always seemed like the cool girl, I was very quiet; an observer. I also always wondered how the world related to me. How was I supposed to feel, what was I supposed to be doing? I felt robbed of a sense of self. I was either too sensitive a crybaby or I talked like a “white girl”, my hair was too nappy, or I had an attitude, or I was too prudish or anything negative.
I grew up, thinking something was wrong with me. I grew up, trying to fix myself or be something I wasn’t in order to be accepted. Over the last few years, I’ve been going through an awakening. I am questioning all I know and learning to trust myself and I can tell you it’s been hard. Little me, survival mode me, is hell-bent on telling me things I’m SUPPOSED to do and whom I’m SUPPOSED to be because I am deviating from the course she set out for me. I feel like I’m going through an internal struggle, I know better, and I know how I want to show up. I’m learning what I want and that is the complete opposite of what she wants. She wants to hide and stay in her “safe”, secluded bubble. I want to be seen, but being seen when you’ve been hiding for so long can feel like an exposed open wound. It’s wrapped in uncertainty and certainty at the same time.
Being seen is like staring the truth in the face, and not balancing it with a lie. Being seen is a form of self-love, putting yourself in spaces that allow you to be seen is a form of self-love, and standing in the gaze of a loving stare is the ultimate form of love. We all want to be seen, but the question is, can we handle the stare?
Krystal A Phillips