It’s always been easy to love the parts of me that others seem to love. But then I just become an expression of what other people love, rather than what’s true within me. It’s easy to figure out an algorithm by examining what receives a lot of likes, shares and attention. Knowing the best times to post, the words you should and shouldn’t use, the popular trends. It doesn’t guarantee that you’ll be liked, but it guarantees you’ll be seen.

I like being liked, but I don’t always like being seen. Humans love connection – we are social creatures. I love connection. I feel better when I know that someone else gets me. When someone laughs along with me. When I hug my friend and neither of us want to let go. One of the worst feelings is sharing something I care deeply about, to then be laughed at, shoulder shrugged, criticised, feeling as if I stepped out of line. I showed too much.

Feeling ‘seen’ is scary. Especially when it’s not curated and planned, when there are no filters or delete buttons. An ugly emotion creeps up that you convinced yourself you weren’t capable of feeling. You say something in the moment that you don’t believe in, or maybe you do believe it, and now you doubt yourself.

Whenever I try to fit in, I think my quirks exacerbate to remind me I’m not meant to. My clumsiness kicks in and I tumble over. I speak too fast and excitedly interrupt others or stumble over my words and they don’t come out the way they’re intended to. This feels scary in a society that cancels people based on words rather than actions and intentions.

I used to think that I could create this perfect version of myself by working on myself, by manifesting and sharing love and light. You can create a perfect life on the surface, but are you really living in it unless you’re allowing yourself to feel and express what’s going on beneath the surface?

In the last year, I have shined a light on the parts of myself that I shamed into the shadows. The parts that want to be seen and felt, not just liked. The parts of myself that get upset easily and are sensitive. The parts of myself that are embarrassed for not getting it right. The parts that over-indulge and love to push extremes. The inner repressed rage buried within my bones for all the times I said ‘yes’ instead of ‘no’. The needy clingy intense parts of me that I am scared to let others see.

Feeling and acknowledging these feelings has not been a pleasant experience of love and light, and I’m not sure I advise that everyone delves deep into their darkness, because we can easily get lost in it. But acknowledging I have these emotions has helped me feel more human. Accepting all parts of me, knowing they are not all of me, has helped me give myself the love and attention I crave from others. But I still believe we need others, we need social connection.

When I look at the world right now, there are polar-opposite extremes: there are people with very little and others with too much.

In my opinion, silencing, shaming, and repressing hasn’t helped anyone except for those who want to control and keep things a certain way. I think of people with addictions attending secret AA meetings.  I think of the church abuse scandals, the troubles, the famine, the mental institutions, the Magdalene laundries. How these things aren’t talked about but they are felt. How suicide rates, addictions, mental illnesses are increasing – these things aren’t talked about but they are felt. Putting people on pedestals of perfection dehumanizes them, in the same way that putting people on a pedestal beneath us does. Expecting people to show up as one version of themselves constantly is unrealistic.

In my own life, I realised if I ignore all the hidden imperfect parts of myself, they’ll continue to play out in patterns. In our world, we can also see patterns continuing of history repeating itself in different ways. Something I have learnt is that having awareness of my own patterns helps change them. Acknowledging them, rather than turning a blind eye and dismissing them.