I have recently made an observation. I want to be seen and acknowledged. In the past several months I have started an intensive personal development overhaul. After many, many years of trying to hide and trying to blend in I am realizing how empowering it feels to be acknowledged.
I put on weight. It is a protection device for me. I also tend to wear almost all black and grey. Up until the last few months, my closet had very little color in it. The interesting thing is my outsides weren’t matching my insides. I felt colorful, vivacious, and bubbly. But outwardly, I was projecting that I was recluse and didn’t want to be approached.
In the last few months I have lost weight. I have intentionally ended relationships that were not supporting me the way I needed them to. I began wearing colorful clothing. I stopped wearing layers upon layers of clothing to the gym. I started showing up in the world as ME. With all of my imperfect perfection, I have made my statements that I deserve to love and to be loved in this world.
What has been happening is nothing short of amazing. My business is responding by starting to send me people that are ready to step into their own selves. I am meeting new people. And today, I am noticing that people are greeting me by name. The trainer at the gym this morning said “Hi Amy”, I received a text that said “Good Morning Amy.” I am working in my coffee shop office today and when the barrista handed me my latte she said “Have a great day, Amy!”
It feels great to be acknowledged. It makes me realize that despite my struggles, despite the dark places I have been, I DO deserve a place in this world. I DO deserve to be seen, and most importantly I am part of something bigger. This big world of seemingly strangers but we are all connected. We all want to be seen, to be acknowledged, and to be loved. When you see someone today, say their name. If you appreciate someone today tell them. You may be the only person they cross paths today that helps them to feel seen.
Now, what to do with all those black and grey clothes of mine. . . .