Being seen
Today Is Being Seen
Today’s lesson was simple: I am seen.
Walking down the street in Keizer, people in cars who knew me waved. Not a polite nod — a “I know you” wave. A “you matter here” wave.
I walked into Toastmasters and shared my story. I left with information about speaking in the prison. My voice, once silenced, now has a place in rooms where hope is needed most.
I walked to Human Bean and they knew my order before I spoke. That’s more than coffee. That’s belonging. That’s being known.
Tonight, I stopped to talk to people in my neighborhood. The city worker who saw me fall yesterday asked how I was doing today. He remembered. He cared.
For years I lived invisible — in trauma, in shame, in survival mode. But today? Today I was seen. Not for my past. Not for my pain. But for my presence.
Being seen isn’t about fame. It’s about connection. It’s about the quiet moments when the world says, “You’re here. You count. We see you.”
And when you’ve spent seasons feeling unseen, that kind of recognition feels like resurrection.
Today is being seen. And I’m not hiding anymore.
