in no one's line of sight

Teleportation, telekinesis and telepathy. Those were my superpowers of choice as a kid. To be able to travel anywhere in the world in an instant, move objects with my mind and gain better insight into the thoughts of those around me, that was the dream. But sadly they never became a reality. However, sometimes it does feel like I did gain a different superpower.

If to be loved is to be seen, I often move through this world feeling invisible. It is not that I don’t have people in my life that love me. Quite the contrary, actually. And yet, I sometimes find myself in situations not knowing who I can rely on to show up for me in the way I need.

You can be loved without being seen.

Most of what passes for love is self-referential. It treats the other person the way you understand care: the way your own parents showed up for you, the way you would want to be comforted, the way your instincts tell you is good. It doesn’t require stepping outside yourself. The parent who disciplines harshly because harshness is what they know. The friend who says “I hope you feel better soon” because warmth is what they’d want in return. The gesture is genuine. But it is love as a mirror, not love as a window.

Being seen is different. It requires looking outward, not inward. Observing. Listening. Asking: what happened? what do they need? how are they actually doing? Not assuming you already know because you know what you would need. The parent who hears about disruptive behaviour at school and then looks at the child first asking “why? what did they understand of it? are they okay?”, is doing something different from the parent who reaches for the approach that worked on them. The former is truly seeing their child, addressing the person, not the presenting issue.

Curiosity is a form of intimacy. The act of paying attention: remembering the small things, asking the follow-up question, noticing what was left unsaid, is itself an act of love. It is what separates presence from performance. But it requires intentionality and access.

People can only see those who let themselves be known. And often people shy away from the spotlight, casting shadows that block others from seeing them fully. That, in turn, leaves people feeling invisible.

For me, there is always a tension that comes with navigating being seen. As a single 20-something who lives alone, I am in no-one’s direct line of sight. Consequently, I have to be more intentional about opening up parts of myself and communicating my needs to others to give them the chance to show up for me. Conversely, I don’t want to be overbearing or a burden. At times I also lack the vocabulary to articulate my feelings, so I leave them unsaid. So, when I find myself in situations where it feels like no one is going out of their way to understand the specific weight of what I’m carrying, am I not the one to blame? Was this power of invisibility unwillingly placed upon me or is it a cloak I chose to wear?

The answer is likely found somewhere in the middle.