Seen, Held, Heard

The Ache of Feeling Invisible

“The older you get, the stupider you get!”

Sometimes, you have to look back to move forward in the present.

There are still so many parts of me that show up from time to time, parts that make me feel like I haven’t made any progress at all in my growth and healing.

I’m not entirely sure what that’s about, but I do know one thing for sure: it’ll keep showing up until I acknowledge it and give it the attention it needs.

Not the kind that dwells or spirals, but caring attention. A tending to, like someone who’s been wounded and needs gentle care until they can move on their own.

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For me, there’s a door inside that keeps asking me to visit. I think it’s the one holding all my messy parts. The childhood memories that weren’t safe or soft. The times I didn’t feel held. The moments when the adults in my life felt more like monsters than protectors—like they were trying to devour me instead of keep me safe.

When I zoom out and look at it all from above, I can see the characters in my family and how we moved around each other. My father was the nucleus we all orbited.

I remember always shrinking myself so small, just trying to stay out of the line of his verbal assaults. My tiny spirit felt shredded by the blunt force of his words. They would cut deep into my mind, my sense of self, my soul.

And maybe those are the very same assaults I’ve carried and turned against myself.

And his silence. Weeks of it. Like I was a ghost. Like, only he had the power to bring me back to life at his time and choosing. (I would learn later in life that he, too, carried his own pain from his childhood that he inherited and bequeathed unknowingly and regrettably to his children)

For me, hiding was my survival.

We’ve recently been having this exact conversation in my writers' family,

The Creator Retreat

this feeling of being invisible. Of wanting to be seen, but also not wanting to be seen.

We all have our stories.

And yet, we’re connecting in ways that help each other feel seen, heard, and held.

These tender parts of us, the child in us that wants to be affirmed, accepted, and loved, that’s such a normal human desire.

I don’t want to deny that for myself or anyone else.

I think there will always be a tension between wanting to be seen and not wanting to be seen.

But maybe… there's a space in between where it feels safe to be okay with both.

So I hope that as I continue to open the door to the inner knocking, the invitation to acknowledge and welcome all these parts of myself, I’ll learn to fully embrace them.

To give them the love and safety they always deserved.

And maybe, just maybe, by offering my stories—the ones wrapped in the quiet ache of invisibility—you’ll feel a little less unseen in yours.

With Love,

Sherry🌻

Photo by Daniel Tseng on Unsplash