The Fear of Being Seen: My Personal Story

WRITTEN BY RENEE BRUSH, Ph.D.

I’m not entirely sure when it started, but I have never felt comfortable when people have their attention on me. In fact, the times I have been noticed have been so uncomfortable that I have few memories of times it happened.

But, the earliest I can remember is when I was 5 or 6 and I had a bout of diarrhea. I tried to tell my mom, but I could not remember the words that I needed to use. None of them! I tried to say I had “loose bowels” but, instead, said, “I have loose balls.” Now, in my 50s, that is a cute thing that little kids say and I can even get a bit of a chuckle. But, then, her laughing felt like mocking. And, in fact, even writing this, I can feel the shame inside, the humiliation. I know now she did not mean to hurt my feelings, but it did.

There are other times my mom reacted to me like that, where there was instant shame or mocking, where I was left wondering what I did wrong. When I was older, like 15 or 16, I remember asking what was for dinner and her response was “vegetables.” That was not the usual fare for us, so I asked, “No meat?” And then I was yelled at like I asked some strange, unheard of question, like “Are you going to cut your leg off?”

But I realize now that it wasn’t just my mom that is at the root of this fear. I remember times when adult men looked at me in ways adult men should not look at a young girl. The earliest I can remember I was 12 or 13 at a county fair with my mom. At the time, she worked with some home sales company similar to Tupperware, so I was walking around the fairgrounds. Some man started talking to me and he was uncomfortably friendly. I could not get away fast enough.

Oh, and there was the time I was an adjunct teacher for a course on statistics. I loved teaching statistics. It is such a feared course and I loved being able to help students understand it. At the time in the program, they were having the full professors monitor the adjunct's courses by attending one class. It was the day I was starting to teach - or supposed to start teaching - the statistics software program. There was the full-time professor - the acting director of the program, no less - sitting at the back of the class as I tried to open the software program. Much to my horror, I received an error message and the software program never opened. I did not get yelled at or even fired. But disappointing her was enough and having to hear constructive feedback like, “Next time, it will be helpful to double check the software before class,” left me wishing the earth would just open up and swallow me whole. She did not yell at me, but I felt as if she did.

After all this, even positive attention was uncomfortable.

For me, a person who is very emotionally sensitive, these events were painful, even though now I can see how innocent these events were. It wasn’t until I was a student in training for Somatic Experiencing that I began to see the full effects of that pain. In class one day, I remember making a comment to something he said and the instructor, Josh, intuitively commented on something deeper from my own experience. I was so distraught over him noticing and speaking my truth out loud that I cannot even remember what he said. Instead I made a comment like, “You weren’t supposed to see that.” And he said, “It’s scary to be seen.” Or something like that. Again, I was in full fight-or-flight response at that moment so I really can’t remember clearly what was said.

But he was right. And that one moment was a transformative and pivotal moment in my healing. He saw me but he did not hurt me. In fact, he understood and EMPATHIZED with me. It really was too much for me to bear in the moment. I can still feel the emotion as I am typing this.

I’m sorry to say that ONE moment is not enough to heal someone completely from a lifetime of being hurt, even though Josh was excellent at continually seeing and understanding me throughout the two years I trained under him. I can look at the people with whom I have surrounded myself today and know that I am safe with them. I can be goofy or say something strange - I can just be me - and they will appreciate that, and maybe even enjoy what I say.

I can even look back over my life and see how this fear of being seen has affected my life. Once I moved out of the house, went to college, and then entered the adult world, I recognize that I kept my world very small. Every place I lived, I had one person in my life to whom I opened up. Since high school, I have not had big groups of friends with whom I was social and hung out. I knew people but I only opened myself up to one person at a time. I was a Navy wife almost immediately out of college and so we moved frequently - we moved out of each area after only about three years. In each place, I chose one person to be my close friend but, when I moved, I intentionally - though unconsciously - lost touch with them. After my mom died, I actually got back in touch with many of them - thanks, Facebook - and they are in my life in some way. The thing I learned is that many of them wondered how I was doing or had tried to find me themselves. I honestly was shocked!

A very rare photo of me in the White Mountains, NH

I also have a therapist, Deborah, who sees me. I have been working with her for close to 10 years. I cannot tell you now why I have always felt safe with her, but I did - from the beginning. I tell my own clients, many of whom have been with me for 5-6 years, that is ok to not feel safe with me, even after all of this time when you have had a childhood of trauma. But deep down I knew I was safe with her. She has seen me at my worst - which honestly is mostly about emotion, you know, like the ugly cry - and she still supports me and accepts me. She says very compassionate and grace-filled things, like Josh did, when I have made mistakes. She even gets mad at people who hurt me in some way. With her, I feel like I can do no wrong.

I would be lying to you if I said I did not have tears in my eyes right now. There is something healing with looking at the bad memories that created a situation and then looking at the aspects of your life that are helping to heal that hurt. In fact, honestly, I am feeling a bit overwhelmed with emotion as I am recognizing the good people in my life. And I am being transparent about it. How ironic is it that, in a post on how I am afraid to be seen, I am actually taking the step to be seen by you, the reader. So, I’m healed, right?! My automatic response is to say no, but Deborah is good about reminding me that I am not broken. So I will simply say: I’m getting there.

This whole blog about my healing is a huge leap outside of my comfort zone. As I have moved into my spiritual awakening and started listening to my intuition, I have come to know that my purpose is to write this blog. And I have received several messages from people that it is time to be seen. I cannot do the work that God put me on this Earth to do if I cower in fear and keep hiding myself. So, here I am. Feeling a bit like Superman stepping out of the phone booth. Ta da!

I wonder if Superman ever felt afraid to be seen. In one way, I suppose he did. After all, he hid his true identity. But for this blog, I’m working from one of my favorite quotes: Feel the fear and do it anyway.

 Side note: As I started to write this post, I believed that the goal of this post was to describe my fear of being seen and where it came from, and then to provide tips on how YOU can heal from this if you have the same fear. But, as I have been writing it, I realize that the post was part of the process for me to step out of that comfort zone and process this fear so I can give the world this blog. I promise - in future posts, we will cover those tips. But right now, welcome to my world!