It can become an addiction in and of itself. The desire to be seen. After a lifetime of hiding and feeling invisible, when we experience feeling seen for the first time it’s like finally breathing air we knew we had once breathed, but couldn’t quite remember. We come to life. We shout it from the rooftops. And we want more. More. More. More.
We do whatever it takes to get that fix again.
Kneel, beg, Demand, fight. Information-dump. We know the price. It requires some form of “connection.” So we rush the connection to get the goodies. Reaching a point of simply lugging around our suitcase of stuff and dumping it into the lap of anyone who glances our way. “Sort through this as quickly as possible because I want my next fix, NOW!”
I did this. I so desperately needed to feel seen. And yet it also felt unsafe, but I never knew why. Now I know. I was forcing it to get the outcome. I was forcing myself and the other. It was artificial connection. But I’ve started wondering, what’s the rush? Why do I need to share everything as quickly as possible? Why don’t we unwrap each other slowly? I’ve realised I want to do that nowadays. I want to take the time to learn someone, and have them learn me. No rush. No desperation. Just curiosity.