When your eyes gaze into mine, I can tell that you truly see me. Your love and acceptance helps wipe away decades of being overlooked.
And I was overlooked. I don’t think anyone actually saw me while I was in high school or even middle school, but that was kind of the way I wanted it. Or it was at least the way I thought I wanted it. I was independent and was content on my own. I liked my own company, I had my cat, my creative outlets, and I was fine wrapped up in my shell. Looking back I so desperately wanted attention, to be seen and loved. Though it’s not like my home life sucked, it was fine. My parents were great and I was able to do pretty much whatever I wanted. I was a shy only child who had no confidence in herself, and disliked talking on the phone (I still don’t care for it lol). I sucked at small talk, and whenever I was in a group of people I didn’t say anything unless I had something specific to relay. For the most part I spent my teenage years in my bedroom if I wasn’t at school or at my part time job. I was smart and knew too much about some things, but was way too naive about others.
Meeting people online was just starting to come about when I met my hubby. I found I could chat behind a computer so much easier than over the phone or in person. It wasn’t until Gun and I opened our marriage that I fully realized this. People started talking to me, and I found it easier to talk to them but even then, it can be easy to hide or re-imagine yourself. I am a genuine version of myself when behind a keyboard, but you never know who else is. I rather quickly found out that a connection you might have online with someone doesn’t necessarily transfer over to the same sort of connection in real life.
It’s taken years, but I know now what it’s like to truly be seen. To have someone actively want to uncover parts within you, and to help find the person who’s there but has been locked away her whole life. To see a being emerging in front of them and to love them. To help them fly. It’s humbling.
The shy, insecure girl I used to be is still there. She pokes and prods me sometimes with her doubt. It’s hard not to listen when she was the voice inside my head for 36 years. But I’m trying…