to have someone glance beyond the curated mask and meet the soul beneath.

it’s a loneliness that whispers: i want you to see me, but i don’t know if i’m ready to be seen.

we live with a quiet, often unspoken tension- the aching desire to be truly seen, understood and accepted , yet simultaneously, the impulse to hide, to hold back, to keep parts of ourselves locked away from others’ eyes. it’s a paradox many of us know all too well.

letting ourselves be known, even just a little, is an act of bravery.

we live with a quiet, often unspoken tension- the aching desire to be truly seen, understood and accepted , yet simultaneously, the impulse to hide, to hold back, to keep parts of ourselves locked away from others’ eyes. it’s a paradox many of us know all too well. we expect to be known, to be loved fully, but resist the vulnerability that comes... See more

but maybe, just maybe, there’s a kind of freedom in letting the walls soften a little- in trusting that being seen imperfectly is still enough, and that we are worthy of connection simply because we are human.

letting ourselves be known, even just a little, is an act of bravery. it’s a risk because it means showing up without armour, opening the door to possible hurt. but it’s also the only path towards genuine connection and healing.

what if vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, but the quietest kind of courage?

it is a profoundly human need, this wish to be recognised in our fullness- to have someone glance beyond the curated mask and meet the soul beneath. when this happens, healing begins. connection deepens. and we start to accept ourselves not despite our flaws, but because of them.