20/04/2025
Being seen — truly seen — in moments of despair is not the same as being noticed.
It’s not about visibility or the kind of attention we might receive through roles, accomplishments, or an online presence.
Those forms of being seen have their place and can be meaningful in their own ways.
But the type of being seen I’m thinking about is something different.
It’s quieter, closer, and often unexpected.
It happens in real life — in the presence of another person who, without trying too hard, reflects something back to us that feels true and of the moment.
When we’re grieving or carrying trauma, loneliness often arises from feeling unrecognised.
Even when people offer kind compliments or encouragement, we can still feel untouched. Such support can be offered sincerely, but if it doesn’t reach the part of us that feels unseen, it can fall flat.
I’ve come to notice that certain moments of recognition carry a quiet significance.They don’t need to be grand.
Some of the moments I remember most — where I’ve truly felt seen — were fleeting: a look, a pause, a brief sentence that landed effortlessly.
And yet, they stayed with me and settled something inside.
They didn’t resolve anything, but they helped me feel less alone in my struggle.
Rizq & Target (2008) write about how being seen by another can support our capacity to tolerate ourselves — just as we are in that moment.
And that, to me, is what makes the difference.
Sometimes, what we need is not to be seen more, but to be seen differently, so that being with ourselves feels slightly easier to handle.