We all long to be seen — not just noticed, but truly seen. To be recognized for the light we carry, the dreams we hold, and the essence of who we are beneath the surface. Yet so many of us move quietly through the world feeling unseen — dimming our brilliance, softening our truth, or tucking away the pieces of ourselves that feel “too much.”
But real visibility doesn’t begin when others finally notice us. It begins in the sacred moment we decide to notice ourselves.
When you look into your own eyes — really look — and meet the parts you’ve hidden, something shifts. You become both witness and beloved, both seeker and seer. You remember that you are not waiting to be chosen; you are choosing yourself.
A Moment of Inner Seeing
When I was in my coaching training, we were asked to create something physical that represented our inner critic.
I molded mine from black clay — an odd little shape with deep-set eyes — and wrapped it in a piece of mesh screen. I imagined that, when we brought them to class, we would destroy them. I was so ready to mash it to pieces.
But that wasn’t the lesson.
Instead, we stood before our group and shared what our inner critic looked like, what it said, and why we made it that way. Then our teacher invited us to do something unexpected — to give our inner critic a new job.
So I thanked mine for trying to protect me all those years. For pushing me when I needed to grow. Then I told it that I had a new assignment for it — to remind me of my confidence, to whisper encouragement instead of doubt, to help me remember that I can do what I set my mind to.
That day changed something inside me. It taught me that being seen isn’t just about showing our light — it’s about acknowledging the shadows too, and giving them purpose.
Remembering that experience now reminds me to check in again, to listen, to offer that part of me new guidance. To see it, not as an enemy, but as a misunderstood friend who just needed love and direction.
Seeing Yourself Anew
True visibility is an inner awakening. It’s not about applause or algorithms — it’s about authenticity. When you stop performing and start being, your energy changes. You radiate from a place of wholeness rather than hunger.
And that’s where the magic happens: the right people begin to recognize you because your frequency is honest. You’re no longer trying to prove your worth; you’re embodying it.
To be seen is not to stand under a spotlight — it’s to stand in your truth. To allow your heart, your voice, and even your inner critic to have a place in your becoming.
Helpful Hints for Practicing Inner Visibility
1. Create a daily moment of self-recognition.
Each morning or evening, pause for one minute in front of a mirror or while placing a hand over your heart. Whisper to yourself, “I see you. I love you. You are safe to be here.” This simple practice begins to rewire old inner narratives and gently retrains your energy field to expect acknowledgment instead of dismissal.
2. Dialogue with your inner voices.
The next time your inner critic pipes up, write it a short letter or have a quiet conversation in meditation. Ask what it’s trying to protect you from. Then thank it, and give it a new role — like reminding you of your courage, or keeping you grounded in self-respect. The key isn’t silencing your inner critic but transforming its language. Over time, that once-harsh voice can become one of your strongest allies.
3. Practice gentle exposure.
If being seen by others still feels tender, start small. Share a truth in your journal, speak up once in a meeting, or post something online that feels meaningful to you rather than polished for others. Every act of honest self-expression builds the muscle of visibility — and invites your energy to shine more naturally.
Remember, visibility is a practice, not a performance. Every time you honor your truth, you send a signal to your soul that it’s safe to be known.
Journal Reflections
- What parts of yourself have you hidden, thinking they weren’t lovable or worthy of being seen?
- If your inner critic had a physical form, what would it look like? What would it say to you?
How might you thank that voice for its service — and give it a new role that supports your growth?
In the sacred art of becoming,
Sue
