When I Felt Seen

Flashback with me. About three years or so ago I had a meeting. I was flipping through old pictures trying to find something in particular when I stumbled upon a picture that reminded me of this day and this meeting. I met with a team of incredible women I worked with for a local women’s conference. We would meet monthly and then weekly as the conference grew closer going over responsibilities and details. We had many meetings, but I remembered this day in particular.

Have you ever felt unseen?

Have you ever felt like you didn’t have a seat at their table?

Have you ever strived to be accepted? To fit in? To be a part of their crowd?

I feel like I have always been the girl on the outside. I was the youngest in our neighborhood and my friend groups growing up leaving me to feel left out because I was never old nor cool enough. I didn’t make the dance team in high school and always had bit parts or did behind-the-scenes things in theater. I want/wanted to write and become an author never quit fitting into the mold publishing houses want. I was always, or at least I always felt like, I was on the outside. Until this day.

I remember walking out of the meeting with my friend. I cannot remember the specifics of our conversation, but I remember exactly how I felt: seen. I had worked for years trying to fit into groups and the in-crowd, especially at my church. I did all the things. I attended all the activities. I served, taught Bible study, wore the outfits that all the cute girls at church were wearing. Yet somehow, I was still on the outside yearning to be accepted to a seat at their table. Until that day with my friend in the parking lot.

Have you ever been here? Have you strived for a seat at her table only to feel like, “This seat’s taken.”? Me too. Seeing that picture as I scrolled down memory lane reminded of me the power of how someone else can make me feel. As I remembered how my friend made me feel that day (like I was seen, heard, understood, and belonged), I realized that I have the power to make others feel the same. She has no idea that that moment in a hot Texas parking lot empowered and encouraged me in such a way that it changed the trajectory of my life. That moment allowed me to see that maybe I am not crazy and I should be confident in who I am even though others don’t recognize it.

You may not have a seat at her table. She may ignore you or not recognize the gift of exactly who you are right now. That’s okay. She doesn’t need to to give you value. Know that you, too, have a parking lot friend even if she hasn’t shown up yet. In the meantime, be her parking lot friend. Invite her to your table. Tell her she is valuable. Because in doing this, I promise you will see how beautifully valuable you are.

Cheering you on,

Meg