When They Don’t See You

Week 36 — Holding space for yourself, even when others don’t

ℱ𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈... 🫶💌☕

I’m writing this on a lovely day with the curtains almost closed as it’s so sunny I can’t see the laptop screen. Summer is holding on whilst the beginning of the autumn leaves start to appear on the edges of the footpaths.

As I sit here typing away, quietly pondering my thoughts, I’m reminded of some small occurances that happened over the summer months.

They settled somewhere deep inside me — the place that still remembers what it’s like to be overlooked.

You see, over the summer months, I caught sight of some people I used to know.
Folks I shared space with for years.
We made eye contact, and then… nothing.
No nod. No flicker of recognition from them.
Just a glance through me, like I was never really there.

And strangely, it hurt.
Not deeply. Not dramatically.
Just enough to stir something old.

That quiet sting of invisibility.
Not because I needed them to say hello.
But because it reminded me of every time I wasn’t acknowledged.
Every time I went unseen.

It wasn’t heartbreak.

Just that quiet sting of being skipped over —

as if your presence never mattered.

(If that lands somewhere tender, you’re allowed to feel it. You don’t have to shrink it down.)

Even now, decades later, that old feeling still knows how to find me.

What hurt wasn’t their silence — it was what it stirred:

• That ache of not being memorable

• That question of whether I ever truly belonged

• That tension between “I don’t care” and “...but I sort of do”

This is what unprocessed trauma can do.
This is what a dysregulated nervous system remembers.
Not in clear thoughts, but in flashes. In sensations.
In the cold swipe of someone’s eyes passing over yours like you’re nothing.

Before we talk about grounding,

we have to ask:

has your body ever been

a safe place to land?

(And if the answer is no — or not yet — that’s still a valid, sacred truth.)

For so many of us, grounding isn’t peaceful.
Stillness isn’t calming.
Eye contact isn’t neutral.
Even safety is complicated.

Because:

• We’ve learned to disappear as a survival skill

• We’ve equated stillness with danger or punishment

• We’ve learned to smile and pretend while feeling invisible inside

• We’ve been taught that validation must come from outside of us

So when someone ignores your presence, your body might be trying to make sense of every time it happened before.

And instead of trying to logic your way out of the pain, maybe this time, you stay.

Not in suffering… but in solidarity with yourself.

What if the ache

isn’t asking you to go back —

but to honour

how far you’ve come

without being mirrored?

(Let that sit for a moment, if you can. And if not yet — that’s okay, too.)

Here’s what I remind myself:

• I don’t have to pretend it didn’t sting

• I don’t have to smile if I don’t feel like it

• I don’t need to contort myself to be recognised by people who don’t see me

Instead, I breathe.
I ground — gently, on my own terms.
I meet that ache with kindness, not critique.
And I remind myself:

• I’m not invisible to me

• I don’t require their recognition to belong

• I’m allowed to feel this without needing to “get over it”

Imagine walking down the street

holding your own presence —

not waiting to be seen,

but knowing you exist.

Fully.

Freely.

Anyway.

(Maybe not today. But maybe one day. And maybe that’s enough for now.)

If someone blanks you this week, please don’t blank yourself.

You are allowed to take up space,
even when others don’t acknowledge it.

You’re still here.
You still matter.
And the ache inside you isn’t weakness… it’s wisdom.

𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝑒,
🙏 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒶 𝓍𝑜

P.S. I tried something new today — I recorded an audio version of this letter for those of you who’d rather listen while walking, exercising, driving, or just moving through your day. My mum calls it my “posh phone voice” 😄 — though it’s not the slickest recording (first attempt + laptop mic = humble beginnings!). I’ll test it on my mobile phone next time and see if that sound is any better.

If you enjoy it, let me know. I’d love to create more audio for you in the future — grounding sessions, somatic meditations, or little micro-practices that you can carry with you throughout your week. For now, it’ll be audio only while I get to grips with my new camera 😍