“I vividly remember the emotions I felt during childhood. It’s almost as if I still feel them. And, I guess to some capacity I do, but 20-something years later you’d imagine it to be a little bit less,” she explains. 

avoiding eye contact by looking at all of the antiques, colors, and florals in the room, she sheds her vulnerabilities.

“It’s like wearing a ridiculous outfit in a crowded room but realizing that no one is actually judging you. In fact, you’re barely noticed.” she continues, “Why is it that some of us crave attention and validation as if it is the only thing life is good for, while others can just go through life with no desire to be seen? Why do some of us care so much about who’s noticing us in a crowded room? What did our premature brains wire themselves to believe that while others did not?”

Her therapist sat there, quiet. Another thing that she didn’t handle well was speaking from the depths of her mind and receiving nothing in return—just another thing that instigated her to feel unnoticed and misunderstood. Maybe it was patience that she needed to learn, but in that specific moment, she deemed that it was no time for a lesson on patience. 

“What could my therapist be thinking about me? Why isn’t she responding? Ugh, this is why I only share the good stuff going on. Now I’ll have to explain myself further. Why can't she just get me? It’s been three sessions already. Isn’t this her job?!”

Her therapist sits quietly. And so, she tries to mimic the nonchalant attitude that she assumes she should have while waiting for a response. 

“Being seen and having the desire for attention are two different things. You don’t need to get attention to be seen. And, receiving attention doesn’t always guarantee feeling seen.” Her therapist continues, “Have you ever wondered if you’re using attention-grabbing mechanisms to get close to people so they can get to know the real you?” 

“Pause. Are you implying that middle-child syndrome is actually fake (and my dad was right) and it’s not attention I needed growing up but it was just the need to feel understood in a world that I didn’t think i fit into? … And, I wasn’t ‘disregarded’ as the middle child because no matter what my line in the sisterhood I would have this longing to be seen because it’s the nature of who I am?”  

“Uhmm, not necessarily,” Her therapist says.

“Oh thank goodness,” she says in relief. I Couldn’t let my parents win that argument. Plus, who would I blame for needing therapy if that wasn’t true.”

“Well, before you try to hide behind what you just said, let’s dissect it.” Her therapist says.

“Do you believe that your experiences as a child are attributed to your feelings about not being seen and understood?

“In some ways, yeah. And, for the record, it’s not all bad. I’m happy with who I grew into and I wouldn’t do anything over. But, I do want to understand it. Understanding myself feels like a 29-year-long puzzle that only gets more pieces added with time. And, the longer I take to put them together, the messier it gets and the less that I feel like I know who I am. Organizing the pieces and connecting them gives me a sense of knowing who I was, which led to who I am in the present and how I want to continue to evolve as I move into the future.”

“....talk about OCD going skin deep, huh?” she says with a soft small, and light giggle.

Her therapist sends a smile back. And again, she is quiet.