The Art of Seeing Yourself When No One Else Is Looking
Because Who Else is Going to Notice Your Adorable Cackling Laugh?
When Joan Didion’s husband died, a tsunami-like grief consumed her and she wrote, “I remember thinking that I needed to discuss this with John.”. That sentence hit me like a tonne of bricks because I myself had felt that. My dad - who had built his career in buying and running petrol stations - would always come to mind when I saw Shell petrol stations abroad. After his death, I would instinctively reach for my phone to take a picture and send it to him, making sure to capture the price of petrol and diesel so that we could comment on it together.
I caught myself doing the same thing in my second pottery class last night. I kept making mistakes, my “churros” kept cracking, I wasn’t keeping my hands moist enough, I applied too many layers of paint and you could see the visible brush strokes. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My clumsy hands weren’t ready for today’s class and all I wanted to do was talk to Mr Blindside about it. Just like how earlier that day I completed a daily game that we would play - Queens - in record timing. “Well done, BB!” I imagine him saying. “See! I told you could do visual strategy games too!”. I left pottery early, unable to concentrate and went home to sit with my emotions. What was beneath this desire to have my achievements validated or “seen”?
I lit a candle, sat on my favourite meditation chair and felt the ball of sadness in my chest. I put my hand there as if to to connect with it, and had the following conversation:
What’s going on, my love?
I miss being “seen”.
What does that mean, my love?
I miss my ex-partner of 11-years standing in the doorway listening to me hum as I wash the dishes, with an admiring smile on his lips. Never failing to comment when I finish. “I love it when you hum”. Some days that would be followed by a hug from behind a kiss on my neck and we would bask in the glow of seeing one another and being seen.What else do you miss, my love?
Being called “adorable” by Mr Blindside when I had to stretch to reach the highest cabinets in my kitchen. Or when we would gaze into each other's eyes and just for a moment forget the world around us. I miss the way he would push my hair back behind my shoulders as if he were trying to see me more clearly and trace a thumb across my temple calling me “BB” or “Kore” before leaning his forehead against mine as we both sighed. Do those parts of me still exist if the people that first noticed them are no longer apart of my life?Of course, they exist, my love! They exist independently of who first noticed it, they exist and are a part of you. I know it’s scary when you think that nobody will never notice those idiosyncrasies again but I promise you this. Even if nobody else notices them. I notice them. And for the rest of my life, I will marvel at how you hum when you wash the dishes, how you stick your tongue out of the side of your mouth when you concentrate and how you tilt your head and look up when you think. I will admire your witchy laugh resembling a cackle, I will notice how your eyes glimmer like honeyed amber when the sun hits them. I will watch you as you admire frescoes in churches with childlike wonder and I will take pictures of you to remind you of how beautiful you look when you are lost in your own little universe whilst you doodle and hum in a coffee shop.
Promise?
I pinky promise, little one.
When I was done, I found myself pondering the age-old conundrum: if a tree falls in the forest and no one's around to hear it, does it make a sound?" If my best friend who laughed at my snort-laugh and nicknamed me “Miss Piggy” and my partner who loved my bedtime routine of rubbing my feet together like a praying mantis are no longer in my life, do those quirks still exist? Spoiler alert: they do.
As always, the universe delivered a perfectly timed message in the form of Whitney Hanson, in her heart-wrenching yet profoundly relatable recent video in which she says:
"I am absolutely certain of almost nothing but I am certain of this, I want to be understood. More than anything, I want to be understood. I want someone to look me in my eyes and say; 'I see you. I know you. I am you.”
Feeling seen and understood is the closest thing to pure magic I have ever experienced. But do these parts of me still matter if no one is there to witness them? Well, yes, darling, they do, and now I’m going to tell you why.
Let’s think of it this way: I don’t need a mirror to know I exist. Similarly, I don’t need someone to point out my quirks for them to be real. Those parts of me exist because I exist.
Here are some things that I’ve been trying out to make myself feel “seen” without any external validation:
Talking to myself out loud: asking myself as I would a partner, “What shall we make for dinner tonight, my love? The chicken is going off so that’s a good bet”. Yes, you might feel a bit silly at first, but trust me, it’s a game-changer.
I journal as if I am talking to a friend: I write about my day, my thoughts, my dreams. Sometimes, I’m dramatic, sometimes grumpy and sometimes I have the optimism of a blind paraglider. When I look back and read some of these entries I see certain patterns and quirks that remind me of my voice and how I sound to others, I marvel at my silly jokes and deep observations. I KNOW it feels self-indulgent but who the hell else is going to do it if I don’t?
Talking to myself in the mirror: I actually find this one hard to do, I avoid eye contact, I feel absurd but as I force myself to do it more regularly, I find myself going past the initial critical judgements and start to notice and appreciate little things. How my eyes crinkle when I smile, the way my side fringe curls, the curve of my neck when I run the gua she over it. THEN, I go even further - I’m a self-indulgent monster I know - I have the audacity to compliment myself, out loud. At first, I feel silly but then, as I persist, it sometimes brings tears to my eyes. Now, I find myself doing a little dance and smiling whenever I do it.
Self portraits and selfies: Look, I’m not saying that I should go out there and buy myself a tripod and a ring light and pout away to my hearts content but capturing myself in more intimate and vulnerable moods and settings has been a great way to “see” myself in all phases. Does it feel vain? In the beginning yes, but my objective isn’t to share these photos online and have anyone else validate them. They are memories for me, to look back on and connect with how I felt. When I look at these images - because I never plan to share them - I don’t look at them critically but with admiration and inspiration. I have been surprised at the beauty and depth I’ve noticed.
Recording voice notes: Sometimes, I record myself when I need to rant, when I want to send a long paragraph style message to someone, when I feel like I’m overflowing with emotions or even when I feel incredibly grateful and happy. Listening to the emotions I felt in my voice at a later date help me to connect with that version of myself with a level of kindness I didn’t think was possible to show myself.
Saving a list of my quirks: Recently, I went through all of my old WhatsApp messages and starred the ones where my friends have complimented me or said something really profound. From there I felt courageous enough to make a list of all of the things I love about myself. Funnily enough, a lot of those were things I was criticised on in previous relationships and as a child. I keep this list in the Notes app on my phone and read it often - sometimes when I’m feeling particularly bold I’ll read them to myself in the mirror. Who even am I?
Meditation: When these feelings of sadness or anxiety come up, I make a conscious effort to do what my therapist taught me. Connect with the feeling, treat it with curiosity, don’t judge it and feel it move through my body. This took me a while to master I have to admit but it’s a great way to start to work through issues as they arise, to unpack them and get to the root cause of why they come up. It’s not about “solving” them but noticing them and letting them move through you when ready. Think of it as a daily meeting with the person who understands you the most—you.
Affirmations: I promised myself I would never be that girl but my gosh, affirmations actually work. Something as simple as telling myself “I see you. I know you. I am you.” (Feel free to choose what works for you). I committed myself to a week of saying something similar 3 times. I did it either the moment I woke up or in the mirror as I brushed my teeth or sometimes at night before bed. Words have incredible power and by repeating affirmations I am creating new neural pathways reminding myself that I am my own witness, my own biggest fan. It has been a great support in helping me feel more grounded.
And there it is, it took me a LONG time to realise that in the end, the journey to feeling seen starts and ends with me. Recognising my worth, quirks, and unique traits without needing someone else to validate them. A journey where I become both the observer and the observed.
So, next time I catch myself snort-laughing at a meme or humming while washing dishes, I’m going to give myself a little nod of appreciation and say:
I see you sweet girl, you’re pure magic.
I’ll leave you with a scene from “Shall we Dance” with the gorgeous Susan Sarandon explaining what I mentioned at the beginning of the post far more eloquently. And with that, I wish you an amazing week where I hope you can work on making yourself feeling seen because despite what you may feel, you are SO worthy of it.