The parts we hide, and the stories we need to tell
When Was the Last Time Someone Really Asked About You?
I mean really asked. Think about the last time someone genuinely asked you about your life story — not your job, not your title, but who you are, your life experiences, what you’ve learned along the way, or the things that shaped your views and beliefs. How did that feel?
When was the last time anyone wanted to know something rich and substantial about you, on the levels that make you unique and completely individual? Has it been a while?
In a world where human interactions are shrinking and loneliness is increasing, I’m not surprised if you can’t remember a conversation that explored the depth and breadth of your uniqueness. It can feel like that’s entirely gone out of fashion, outside the norm. Have you noticed?
We don’t crave depth because we’re intense or dramatic. We crave it because that’s where the magic happens, the empathy, the recognition, and the sense of being understood. When someone sees us in our wholeness — messy, evolving, vulnerable — something new is born in that space. We feel less alone in our experience, less estranged from the world. We belong.
Topical Conversations vs. Genuine Interest
Let’s face it, we’re not accustomed to people showing that level of interest on a broad scale. And frankly, not everyone dwells in that place or is even interested in others on that level. Some people are perfectly content to “know” others more topically, and that seems to work fine for them. Perhaps they only know themselves in that space, too, and maybe they are perfectly comfortable there.
But when depth is rare or absent to those who crave it, it can feel like constantly wandering a desert with no oasis in sight. We may begin to question whether something’s wrong with us for wanting more than what’s on the table.
In a culture of small talk and superficial interaction, we must be more discerning when seeking out depth and substance in our connections.
In hindsight, that hadn’t occurred to me until my life changed entirely, and I suddenly had a lot of time to assess everything. Like many of us, I’ve taken inventory of my relationships and noted the expansiveness or shallowness of some of them. I see how one-sided some of them were, the lack of curiosity about me, my thoughts, and dreams now, as clear as day. I’d been so accustomed to it before that I barely noticed.
No wonder I felt so lonely and unseen.
Now, I’m wiser, and I’m more intentional about things. I know my proverbial audience.
I invest in connections where reciprocity freely abides. I feel seen and valued in ways I never have before, and it allows me to show up more authentically to myself and my relationships.
The Projection Trap
I used to think that people were genuinely curious about the world and the people in it, as I am. I recognize now that’s a typical kind of projection that each one experiences in their life on a subconscious level.
We are familiar with this kind of projection in other contexts, such as stories of people who were treated unkindly growing up and then becoming wary, suspicious, and unkind adults themselves, having learned that worldview from others and assuming everyone else functions in the same way.
Maybe I was just naïve.
I used to assume that some people in my life understood me and my inner world, only to find that they were operating from a completely different social and emotional realm. It was hurtful to realize they had never truly seen me in the first place.
If you’ve felt this way, you’re not alone. There are others like you --- and we’re finding each other, slowly but surely. We’re learning to trust that we’re not “too much” for the right people. In fact, for the right ones, our depth is a gift.
Those of Us Who Crave Realness
For those of us who love to connect on a deeper level, we enjoy getting “real” with those we choose to keep company with. We like the rich, gritty stuff. And we crave the company of other like-minded souls who want to know us and our story, too.
When someone sits with us in our full truth — no masks, no performance — something softens within us. We begin to finally belong, not just with someone, but to ourselves.
When we don’t find the richness we crave, it feels like a spiritual starvation, a hunger of the heart for a connection we know is possible.
And still, we keep seeking because we know that somewhere out there, someone else is hungry for the very same things.
What We’ve Hidden to Be Acceptable
How many of us have felt we’ve been in situations and relationships where all the good, juicy stuff is tucked away somewhere, and we’ve made ourselves smaller and more palatable to others?
How many of us have hidden those parts of ourselves away, revealing only what feels acceptable or relevant in certain spaces?
How many years of our lives can we say we’ve honestly spent in our fullness, with our entire being front and center, rather than suppressed and constricted?
We could put names to the many reasons we’ve felt we had to do that all those years.
For most of my life, I hid parts of myself to feel safe and accepted. When chronic pain entered my world in 2016 and I became disabled, I felt a new kind of invisibility set in. This was the pivotal moment when I needed to ask myself whether being hidden was something I was okay with. I realized the choice was mine to make, so I did.
The Call to Reveal Ourselves
I finally saw that my life’s purpose and meaning lay not only in listening to the stories of others, but in sharing my own. I felt life inviting me in, opening to what I had to share and say.
It turns out that there wasn’t anything I needed to fix or acquire to be seen or valued. All I had to do was say “yes” to my own self-worth and believe that my story has a place in this world, too. I could decide to feel safe, knowing I could choose the company I keep and what to share with whom.
I could share my journey of navigating life with chronic pain, in all its vulnerability and truth. I could tell the stories that might reach someone else who feels invisible and unseen.
I could step into my fullness and my new purpose, one story at a time.
Let the Right Ears Find You
It’s not that the right people aren’t out there…they are.
Our stories aren’t meant to be heard by all, but that’s not a bad thing. The act of sharing is brave and worthwhile, even if the audience is small. We can stand in our truth, knowing that the right ears are out there, just waiting to hear what we have to say.
We don’t have to hide, get small, or accommodate the comfort of others. It turns out that life doesn’t demand that of us, after all. Our energy might be better spent opening ourselves up, offering ourselves in rich authenticity, and starting to not only listen passively to the stories of others but also to actively share our own, with a voice that knows its worthiness.
It’s time to amplify, to expand, and take up more space. It’s the right moment to know our journey is worth sharing, our hard-won lessons of value to someone still convinced of their smallness. This is when we stand upright in all our resilient glory and proclaim, “I am that I am.” Someone out there is waiting to hear it.
It feels like the right time to share our stories. The right ears will find mine, and they’ll find yours too. I know they’re out there.
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