Feeling Seen: A Reflection on Connection in a Busy World

I generally feel that I live an unremarkable life. Like so many of us, I plug along each day, moving from task to task, tending to my responsibilities. While I deeply admire the wonderful, complex lives of those around me, I often feel like my own life is, well, boring—and that most people don’t really see me for all I carry.

Then, the other day, a colleague surprised me. She said, “I was thinking about you the other day and how fascinating your life is.” I laughed, shocked by her words. But she went on to list different aspects of my life—personal and professional—that she saw as interesting and unique.

I was taken aback. It felt so good to be seen.

That brief conversation has stayed with me, especially as I reflect on the silos we all inhabit. At work, I’m a colleague. At my kids’ school, I’m just a mom. In these spaces, people see one or two dimensions of me, while the rest of my story remains unseen. It’s no wonder so many of us feel lonely in a crowd.

And it turns out this isn’t just a feeling. Recently, the U.S. Surgeon General declared loneliness a public health epidemic. A new report revealed that loneliness isn’t just emotionally painful—it can profoundly impact our health, contributing to heart disease, stroke, dementia, and declining mental health. Social disconnection is literally making us sick.

This epidemic stems from a decline in meaningful social connections, and our busy, siloed lives only exacerbate the problem. When we don’t take the time to see and know one another, it not only leaves us feeling unseen, but it also deepens a crisis that affects us all.

But maybe there’s hope.

What if we could practice curiosity? What if we allowed ourselves to wonder about the unseen layers of the people around us? What might change if we made space for others to share their full selves—and gave ourselves permission to share ours?

Every person you meet carries multitudes. Beneath the surface of the parent at school pickup, the colleague at work, or the stranger at the grocery store are stories, struggles, and joys you can’t see. Loneliness might feel like a soul wound, but healing begins with the small, sacred act of truly seeing and being seen.

And if no one has told you lately—you are seen. You are so much more than meets the eye.

You carry multitudes. Never forget that.