Being afraid to be seen is a deeper concept than you think...
And it's affecting every area of your life.
Something about being on the Metro, wearing AirPods with no sound, observing the chi of everyone in the train car feels like existing in every timeline all at once.
It’s like being in a bare room with constant thoughts flying around like unlimited tennis balls in a training machine.
They hit me in a bold, punchy, damn near painful manner.
The thoughts were bleak, overwhelming, and almost collective.
The thoughts didn’t offer a perspective on a singular aspect of life, but revealed a pattern that affects many regions.
I’m afraid to be seen.
It isn’t the typical way, like not posting a photo on Instagram, that discloses the real me, even though it stems from there.
It manifests as manufacturing the way others may perceive me because, deep down, I’m unsure if my authentic self is enough.
It’s hyperfixating on every new thing that crosses my path, rather than sticking to what I’ve been building, because god forbid I stand out.
Somewhere along the way, when I was showing up authentically and vulnerably, my light was dimmed. The version of me that was wounded has survived because I probably didn’t have the tools to navigate the emotions that came with that shame, so I’ve reinforced that loop in various ways.
1. Not appreciating the blessings in front of me.
With all the good life has shown me, sometimes I still find ways to hone in on what’s wrong.
I’ve found myself complaining about opportunities that don’t fulfill me, even though they’re fulfilling my needs in that moment.
Or feeling annoyed about a change in plans without being open to the fact that something better may be on its way.
Or not honoring my current season, because I liked last season better. Not having gratitude for the fact that the current season is just as crucial as the better ones that have passed.
2. Not being strict with my boundaries.
Spiritual hygiene is real, and when I don’t trade energetic currency intentionally, I could very well go into debt.
I’ve found myself spending time with people one too many times, staying on TikTok 30 minutes too long, and giving advice when I know someone would rather stay stuck.
These aren’t situations that are minute. I don’t come out of them unscathed. Energy must go somewhere, and I’ve allowed it to fall back onto me negatively, for what?
Was it because I’d be selfish if I didn’t?
Was it because I was afraid to face conflict?
Was it because the discomfort I was used to differed from the kind I felt from setting boundaries?
The inability to address these situations would weigh me down, causing me to react in a passively aggressive manner and live in a reality of victimhood because I was expecting someone to read my mind and take accountability for things they didn’t do.
So, when J.Cole was saying:
“Don’t save her, she don’t wanna be saved.”
I believe that’s what he meant.
3. Not allowing myself to truly receive.
Receiving compliments, opportunities, and help have all been things that I’ve struggled to welcome with open arms.
Maybe it’s a case of impostor syndrome.
Like when a record-breaking artist starts beefing with their peers because they haven’t acknowledged their own accolades, and seeing someone else receive the praise is too much for them.
Or not seeing when someone/something is good for you because you don’t believe you deserve something “good”.
Or putting all of your focus on the end goal rather than redirecting the focus onto the thing that makes a successful end goal the byproduct.
See, it’s deep as f*ck.
That day, on my 22-minute train ride home, I saw just what it means to obsess over some best version of self arrival. And from now on, I will divert my focus to the actionable steps that could change me in that moment.
Because the person I want to be is allowed to shine.
The person I want to be is my authentic self.
The person I want to be is me right now.
