Seen, but Not Known
| Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about connection, what it really means, how deeply we crave it, and how vulnerable it feels when we actually get close to it. We live in a world that makes us feel like we should be “on” all the time. Sharing, posting, reacting… On the surface, it looks like we’re more connected than ever. But underneath? Many of us feel lonelier than we’ve ever been. We scroll through curated lives, filtering our own truths along the way. It starts to feel like we’re constantly visible but rarely seen. I know that feeling personally. For most of my mid to late 20s, I was super active on social media. From the outside, it looked like I was open, like people “knew” me. But what they saw was a highlight reel. I wasn’t someone who showed sadness, confusion, or anything that might come across as messy. I kept everything shiny and digestible. I thought anything else would make people uncomfortable. And while I had “friends,” many of those relationships stayed on the surface. Some were people I only interacted with online. People I wished I could connect with more deeply, but something always felt performative. I needed connection, but I kept getting reactions. Likes. Fire emojis. Little hearts. And none of it felt like the intimacy I was actually craving.Even now, it’s something I’m still unlearning. I want to be known. But being known requires being seen. And that’s not always comfy. |
Coming out after a long marriage that had love, but wasn’t fully aligned with who I was, changed the way I viewed connection. It made me realize how often I’d tried to build closeness through performance instead of presence. I had been making decisions to maintain comfort… for others, for the image, for the structure. Even for me, comfort felt safer than desire.
It’s taken a lot of healing, a lot of forgiveness, and a whole lot of nervous system regulation to feel safe being seen again. Especially now that I’m interested in dating.
And dating after something like that? It’s scary. I realized I didn’t even know what I wanted from someone. I thought I had it figured out once. I did get married, after all. But what I really wanted was the life we could build, not the person themself. Now, I’m trying to want people for who they are, not the role they could play in a future I built in my head. Not because they could give me children or stability, but because I love how they laugh, how I feel around them, even how they snore. LOL.
And if I’m being honest? There are still days I wonder if I’m cool enough. Interesting enough. Lovable again. I don’t think we talk about that enough… how much we quietly question our worth.
But the biggest shift for me lately has been this:
I’ve stopped trying to over-explain myself.
I’ve started doing things because they feel right to me, not because they look good, not because they make someone else happy, and not because they’re easy to understand.
We’re taught – especially as women – or anyone who’s ever been in a caretaking role, to make decisions based on what brings others comfort. What keeps the peace. What makes sense to the people around us. But at some point, we have to ask:
When do I get to choose me?
A lot of people go through life never making a single decision based purely on their own desires.
And honestly? That breaks my heart. Because joy matters.
Your joy matters.
It’s not selfish to choose yourself. It’s sacred.
Connection, real connection, isn’t about proving you’re worthy. It’s about trusting that you already are.
One of the hardest things I’ve had to learn is that boundaries don’t block connection. They protect it.
For most of my life, I struggled with boundaries. I worried they’d push people away or make me seem cold. I still struggle. I’ll be real with you, most of the boundaries I’ve managed to keep are work-related. But I’ve started holding one personal boundary close:
That trip I booked. That person I choose to spend time with. That version of myself I step into, I don’t need everyone to get it.
A Gentle Invitation From Me to You:
If you’re craving connection but afraid of being truly seen… you’re not broken. You’re human.
If you’ve been living for others and not yourself… you’re not behind. You’re waking up.
Whether you’re navigating grief, dating again, rebuilding your self-worth, or simply trying to figure out what actually feels good in your body… Hypnotherapy can help you come home to yourself first.
That’s where every real connection begins.
Let’s start there, together.
