It can be scary to be seen: More True Confessions From a Maryland Therapist
It can be vulnerable, and sometimes even a bit scary, to be seen and heard.
One thing I know, as a Maryland therapist, is that at some level, almost all people want to be seen and understood. But for that to happen, you have to actually be available to be seen and heard—you have to open yourself up, put yourself out there a bit. And that’s not always easy because there are no guarantees that we will be received well. We fear being misunderstood, rejected and the shame that can come with those experiences.
So it’s a risk when we leap out into the unknown and put ourselves, our creative projects, or our ideas out into the world, hoping (but never knowing) that we will be seen and understood.
Big Reveals and Little Leaps: Insights from a maryland therapist
To develop or grow any real friendship takes risks as we let ourselves be seen.
Making and sustaining friendships as an adult is not always simple. During childhood and college years there was a built-in pool of people your age around you all the time. Many kids will initiate a friendship or interaction spontaneously with someone new, sometimes just boldly asking, “Do you want to be my friend?” or “Do you want to play hide and seek with us?”
Everyone has an opinion. You don’t even need a typewriter to make it known anymore.
Adult life is rarely ever that straightforward and there’s quite a dance that goes on as we try to make and develop new friendships at this phase of life. You might have a friendly, very casual vibe with someone you see pretty regularly in your everyday life—at work or at pick up time at school or at a class or community event you attend. You say hi, make small talk while waiting. But you think this person is fun and might be someone that could become a friend. Making those leaps to initiate and then deepen a friendship takes risks. Someone has to be the first to say, “Hey do you want to get coffee after class sometime?” In a growing friendship, someone has to be the one to first share something a little more real or vulnerable, beyond small talk, hoping it will be received well and then reciprocated.
It can also be scary to put something, some work or idea, of yours out into the world, whether it’s through writing or art or a proposal or a campaign. The world is not always a friendly place and all you have to do is turn on the tv or any comments section anywhere on the internet to know that people are not shy about expressing their disagreement or judgement about any kind of work or idea. And a lot of them are not kind. So to put any kind of heartfelt, original work or idea out into the world—to claim it as yours and risk reaction and feedback—is brave.
One of my favorite inspirational quotes about this kind of bravery is from Teddy Roosevelt, often known as the “man in the arena” quote:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
More True Confessions of a Maryland Therapist: I’m the problem. it’s me.
Even though I talk to people about all this stuff every week, as a Maryland therapist, and have a whole bag full of tools for soothing the scaries that can come with these big and little reveals out into the world, it still sometimes catches me off-guard too. I recently took a one week intensive dance class for adults. We met every evening and learned choreography to a very fun Broadway tune. The final evening of the class culminated in performing this dance for our invited family and friends (think elementary band concert or the talent show on the last day of summer camp). Guess who didn’t mention this to her family or friends? This gal. I’m not super shy (even though I’m a total introvert). I don’t have stage fright—I used to be a performer. But there was something about this that felt too vulnerable to share.
I hadn’t danced like this in over 30 years. My body has changed a lot in that time. It does not move the same way it used to. My brain hasn’t had to pick up choreography this fast in 30 years. I felt embarrassed to ask my family come see me do something inexpertly. I know they would have been kind. The fear of looking foolish was entirely in my own head. And it’s not like I was going to be the one platypus in a class of swans—we were all middle aged amateurs just doing this for our own enjoyment. I even tried thinking about how much I treasured all those school music concerts and last day of camp performances as a parent. No dice. I can have a lot of kindness and compassion for the part of me that felt too vulnerable to share this event with my loved ones but it was also a tiny bit sad. It’s not only that I wished that they were there to see the dance itself (by the time I registered my regret, it was “showtime” and too late to issue a last minute invite) but I wish I had been willing to tell them—to let them into a part of my life that I’d tucked away for a long time, long before I was a spouse or a parent or a therapist.
It’s not too late to try again
The good news is that, if we are still breathing, we still have more chances to try again—to take the risks that let others in and help us to connect with people in our orbit and the wider world. Months ago, I had the pleasure to appear as a guest on a podcast. It was the first time I had been a podcast guest. I got to talk about the kinds of work I love to do—as a therapist, with hypnotherapy, as a JourneyDance facilitator—and how I got here. My host, Robin, was also a therapist and kept a lively discussion going with lots of inviting questions. The conversation was friendly and enjoyable. And afterwards I had (to borrow a phrase from Brené Brown), a massive vulnerability hangover. When the episode aired, I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t use clips from it to help explain some of the work I do. Since I don’t really have social media, I didn’t share it anywhere. So imagine my surprise when, months later, someone I know said, “Hey, I didn’t know you did a podcast episode!” My bubble of denial was burst. I wasn’t going to be able to hide forever and pretend this never happened. Nope. So, I got the amazing opportunity (insert sarcasm here) of working on my own stuff again, soothing my fears about being seen and judged, finding the courage to connect to others by being authentic and open, just like my clients do as I encourage and cheer them on in their own lives.
If you would like to hear my podcast episode on The Robin Smith Show, you can listen by clicking this link. I hope that anyone that listens finds something useful within the conversation and can feel the connection with challenges and triumphs we all have as we grow in our personal and professional lives.
However many times you may have passed up a chance to connect with others by allowing yourself, or your work, to be seen, there’s always another chance. What can you do to take courage and consider opening yourself up the next time a good opportunity presents itself?
A free consultation with a maryland therapist
If you are looking for support, please reach out. I see folks for therapy in College Park, MD and offer online therapy in Maryland. You can explore more information about my services throughout the website. Feel free to contact me for a free 15-minute phone consultation.
