When and where in your life do you feel seen? Where are those places and spaces where you feel people really notice when you turn up?

I ask this question because I help coach hockey for a group of about fifty 14 year old girls and I notice that being noticed by the coaches – ‘feeling seen’ – is more important to some girls than to others. I wonder whether there are other parts of their life where they don’t feel seen?

Imagine if everywhere you go, you don’t feel seen, you don’t feel as if people would notice whether you turned up or not. For some children (and adults), I’m sure this is the case. Perhaps their parents have other things going on in their lives -another child that needs so much attention, elderly parents who need looking after, financial worries that lead to long hours, domestic abuse in the family, drug and alcohol issues or mental health problems – which mean that their parents are emotionally not there for them. So when that child goes out and about in the world  is someone else seeing them? Is someone else looking out for them? Would someone else notice if they didn’t turn up – to school, to social events with friends, to a sports team?

In past times in my life I have been in places and spaces when I haven’t felt very significant or very important,  when people wouldn’t mind whether I was there or not. However, I have always had a part of my life where I have had those close connections – someone to turn to, someone who would miss me if I wasn’t there. I can only imagine what it would be like to believe that there is no one I was important to, no one who would miss me if I disappeared.

But this isn’t just about reality, this is also about perception. What a child believes is as important, maybe more important, than the reality. They may have people who care for them but who show it in different ways.

As we all go about our daily lives, I hope we are looking out for those people who feel unseen whether it’s in work or non-work life. And making sure they know we care and are looking out for them.

– Cate Newnes-Smith