Who makes you feel seen? What does it mean to feel seen?

I think much of my journey, partly captured on this humble blog, boils down to a tireless but meandering search for answers to those questions.

A baby who won’t eat but nobody sees or believes her exhausted mother amid the crushing struggle.

A mom always trying to do the right thing only to feel like she’s getting it wrong, not seen as noble but as crazy.

A neurodivergent child not seen but judged and pathologized by experts and authorities, both real and anointed.

It’s surprising, when I look back (and around myself now), to think about who actually saw me, who saw Stella, who helped save us from the spiral of anxiety and isolation.

They were strangers. They were newer friends. Internet connections. They made me feel seen and valued and believed.

The people closest to me, for the longest time, did not see me and Stella. Many still do not and can not.

Beyonce’s words come to mind, as they often and should do. “Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? Everyone else can.“