I See You

I know what you're feeling. 

I know you think you're invisible, but I see you. I notice more than you realize. 

You probably feel like nobody would ever speak to you if you didn't speak to them first. 

I know how hard you try to connect with people, only to feel shut out and unimportant, and like everyone else connects so easily. 

I know that the people you wish you could truly matter to, those whom you truly want to connect with, never seem to feel that way about you.

You go out of your way to show how much you care, to pay attention and be present, and it's never enough. So you try even harder, even though you know that whatever connection you do make won't be enough for you.  You'll want more than the others can give.

And then you pull away, and put on the armor that feels like your favorite pair of perfectly worn-in jeans.

I understand this all too well, because I've lived this my whole life. This is my reality every single day- the struggle of finding where I belong.

I wear the same mask as you- the one with bright colors, and a painted on smile. The one that belies the loneliness and fear that hides beneath. 

I've worn that mask for years, because letting anyone see the truth would make me feel weak and pathetic, and nobody wants to be around a pathetic mess. So I stand in the periphery, pretending I am content to be passed up and unseen by most. All the while wishing for what never seems to come my way.

Some days, it's just too much, and I just want someone to notice me, without me having to say a word. Some days I need to matter, and it's soul crushing when I don't. I tell myself that I don't care. But I do care. I care too much. 

It's not our fault, you know. We didn't do anything wrong. It was the  circumstances we were thrust into that filled our heads with the garbage we tell ourselves. 

It's the pain from the broken shards of our hearts that makes it almost impossible for us to open up and trust, even though we want to so badly. 

It's the years of feeling forgotten and invisible that has caused this insatiable need to be noticed.

Where we came from, and the things we've endured are not our fault. But we do control where we stand today, and where we are headed.

I am not a sum of the disappointments I felt growing up. I continually tell myself that I can no longer give the garbage in my head power over who or what I am today. 

I am no less than anybody else.

The biggest truth I have to constantly remind myself of, is that while I am in my head screaming that I want to be noticed, other people are in their heads, shoveling through their own piles of trash. 

I don't own pain and sadness. And when I feel like nobody sees me, I have to remind myself that it's not about me- that maybe their garbage is consuming them, just like mine is consuming me.

I am not any more damaged than anyone else in this world, and neither are you. 

We are all beautifully broken.