Do You Feel Loved?
Do you feel loved?
It's a big question, I know.
But I've been feeling this question deeply as of late. Here's why:
1. My eldest son is reviewing his college options, having gotten into (and been rejected from) a diversity of schools. Where should he go? Which should he choose? Which school will allow him to blossom into the fullest version of himself? Which school will really see him for who he is, and who he can be, not just who he has been?
2. I watched Derek DelGaudio's In & Of Itself, and immediately texted my friend, the author, podcaster, and New Yorker Jonathan Fields, "Astounding, did you see it live in the city?" And he assured me that it was just as astonishing in person, if not moreso, than in the film I experienced made from the stage performances. I don't want to spoil it for you -- really, you should watch it -- but it centers on the question of identity. Who are we when we unveil our true selves? And does anyone really see us for who we are? And, moreover, in that terrifying space between hiding from sight and hoping to be seen, who do we become?
3. Lastly, I went to a shrink last fall to deal with the fact that I basically stopped sleeping during this pandemic. He diagnosed me as being uninterestingly, unfathomably, unfixably normal -- shoutout to my nonsleepers out there! Still I found the talking to be helpful to alleviate my overwhelming sense of dread and anxiety, which in turn helped with the sleep. (Getting help, FTW!)
But he asked me a question in that first appointment that I’ve been turning over in my head for the past six months:
“Do you feel loved?”
I immediately answer, “Yes!” But then, to my surprise, I hesitated.
Of course I *am* loved. You probably are, too. Many of us are surrounded — albeit socially distanced — by loved ones: parents, partners, children, spouses, friends. Our relationships are, as the title implies, loving.
But what’s been rolling over ceaselessly in my mind is that I think he asked the wrong question.
The issue isn’t that we don’t feel loved, it’s that many of us don’t feel seen.
In a world of cancellations and clap backs, in the internet living forever, with the scars of middle school bullying barely healed despite decades of compartmentalization, a lot of us feel afraid to fly our freak flag
Feel Loved Feel Seen
Which brings me back to Jonathan Fields. I interviewed him recently for my podcast and research for my upcoming book. His nickname in high school was “Freaky Fields.” And, we discussed at length in our interview how he came to find himself in this, more and more as he got older, so that he could not only inhabit his freaky, but live full into it. (Spoiler alert: it’s all about letting go of perfection in favor of grace.)
And, that conversation renewed my commitment to be me, in all my freaky glory.
As children, we get told to act a certain way, be a certain way, dream a certain way. And when we do, we are told we are good children. We are loved.
But we aren’t seen.
The world pushes us to conform, perform, and uniform. It’s beats the interesting out of us in an attempt to reduce our rejection and avoid certain pain.
But have you ever felt lonelier than when you are in a crowd of people, pretending to be something you aren’t, just to get their acceptance?
Here’s the thing I know to be true: This is not only doing a disservice to you, it’s doing a disservice to them. (Tweet this.)
The world needs more you, the real you.
Be yourself. Love yourself. Honor yourself.
(P.S. Tell a friend to check out this post.)
