When I say, “I feel invisible,” I am not throwing myself a pity party or lamenting that no one at a social gathering wants to talk to me, although this may have been true before my understanding and levels of perception evolved.
It was contrast that helped me to understand my true definition of invisibility.
Recently, I connected with some new people at Meetups about Ayurvedic practices or Reiki. When I connected with people at these events that I enjoyed, I felt heard. I felt seen. I felt excited to answer the questions they asked me because they were asking the right questions. I enjoyed asking them questions and hearing their answers because I was genuinely interested, not merely trying to be polite and play tennis in my conversation. It was so refreshing that I wanted to be in their presence for hours, which is different for me, since I tend to recharge and feel best when I am alone. Enjoying myself so much around them made me wonder if I would still be an introvert if I met people like them more often.
On the other hand, when I am with people that I don’t feel that heart connection with, the questions for me became more fact-based and less interesting: “What do you do for work?” “Are you married?” “Are you dating anyone?” “Do you have/want children?” “What do you think of (insert sports team, celebrity, or political view here)?” The energy of these conversations feels constricting, and sometimes, I feel as though I can’t breathe. This can happen with people I know through work, or even with family. I know that most of these people are well-meaning but may not understand how best to connect with me.
Through this contrast, I realized that people can look at you but see right through you. They don’t see you, your essence. They can talk to you, and with their words, elicit a version of you that isn’t really you, or one that is of your shadow. They can elicit a version of you who is insincere, and trying either to impress or give answers that will please them. This is what invisibility truly is, for me – when people can’t or don’t hold space for your inner light to shine, and when you don’t feel safe to express your truth, so you give people a version of yourself that isn’t quite true to feel accepted.
As I grew up spending time around people who didn’t speak to or listen to my heart, I lost bits of myself. My true self became less visible, not only to other people, but to myself. Perhaps I lost opportunities for soul connections as I put armor over myself and hid. I was afraid to express what I want because what I want seems so very different from what most people want and what is normal for one to do with one’s life. My children are my articles, stories, and poems, and my partner is my muse. I dream of a world where everyone tends to their own souls in a way that generates so much love, that hate and crime no longer exist. I see my job as helping the world achieve this in whatever ways I can, even if they are small and don’t seem far-reaching.
I am retrieving these lost pieces of myself and understanding what I want more each day, but it has not been without a great deal of pain – agony, even, at a sense of separation – and especially frustration at not often finding people who resonate with me. It took willpower to crawl out of my shell and interact more authentically with others, and to believe that there is still a purpose to my life. Rationally, I knew that the people at the Reiki and Ayurvedic meetings could be very like me, but the fear of disappointment loomed over me, a paralyzing ghost.
If I wanted to be seen and heard, I realized, I had to put myself out there. I had to act and not assume that divine timing would cause the right people and events to magically fall from the sky. I couldn’t wait for “some day” or when I finally became the most perfect and healed version of myself.
I know that there will continue to be troubles and puzzles that aid me in my self-development. Even the idea for article was spurred by an e-mail from a friend that upset me. As strange as it may sound, I wish I could thank him now for unwittingly bringing me to these aha moments from the momentary upset that I found, or perhaps projected onto his words.
The last aha moment that I have from my recent experiences is this: even if you don’t act in ways that are genuine around the people who frazzle your energy, you don’t have to lose yourself or feel bad for not remaining true to yourself in those moments. No one always says the right things or is perfect, and it’s not for us to make others understand us. Even if you express a desire that isn’t what your soul truly wants or you’re influenced by someone else’s energy in a moment, you’re still you. You still have you.
If remembering this is difficult for you, you may love the Orin meditations by Sanaya Roman. The ones that I have used start with calling your scattered energy back to yourself. If you are highly empathic, like me, and feel as though you have fragments scattered across various interactions with people, I would suggest these meditations and/or an energy clearing ritual. Avoid thinking of clearing as a chore or something to be done out of fear, because that can lessen your motivation to do it. I like to think of it as gathering my scattered energy, letting go of lower energies or things I don’t want, and calling on my Higher Self, but you can be intuitive and find what works for you.
Many times when I am stating the truth, it feels as though I am expressing the obvious or the concepts are too simple – but they are not simple. If you step out into the world – an office, a party, a family gathering – for just a few minutes, it can be so easy to forget Who You Really Are. Once we are conscious of this, it takes us to a brand new level, one where you realize that you always have You.