To Feel Seen, and Smiled At

I fear what other people may be thinking of me. I am almost certain that so too, do you. It is in our nature, in our design, to want to seek acceptance and approval from people: from authority figures, from people we would like to befriend. And we want to feel, on some deep psychological level, safe and sound, truly at home, and not in any way rejected or attacked; we want to feel like we belong. 

Deeper than this, we do not merely seek to be ‘tolerated’, nor even merely ‘accepted’. But appreciated, celebrated. We seek true validation. And nobody at all really wants to feel cast out; alienated.

We tend to look for validation specifically from people whom we perceive to have power. Professional, or social. Maybe they have certain traits that we may, ourselves, desire. For one reason or another, we find ourselves trusting them, as well as their judgements.

 

From the very first days of our existences outside of the womb, what we know to first seek is a validating type of eye contact: to feel seen, really seen, and to feel loved for being. A look, and a smile. A “welcome to the world. You are welcome here, truly.

 

“I see you, and I love you.”

 

And the ways in which we are mirrored back: these little messages continually tell us who we are. This is especially critical in the first seven years of our lives, for this is when the cruxes of our personalities are formed, [what ought to be] a delicate to-and-fro of “this is me,” and, “yes, this is you”. And it is the job of a child’s caregivers to continually make the child feel seen, and known, held, praised, and encouraged.

Such instinctual psychological desires do not just up and leave us, after these particular definitive years of ours, though; they are here with us, throughout our lives. At school, within our peer groups, at work — we find ourselves forever in pursuit of the eye-and-smile thing.

“You are truly seen,” it tells us. “And truly appreciated.” 

Relax. Without any sort of need to impress or overcompensate. Nor to always come across as being especially funny, or smart, or anything else. Just as you are: you are worthy of love.

But what if, whether in infancy or at some crucial point thereafter, we did not feel seen (i.e. seen in truth, and not merely via the masks we may have learnt to wear, in order to attempt to simulate that essential validating experience we so sought) and what if we did not feel smiled-at, appreciated, cherished?

One of my little cousins, for example, is really rather awesome. She likes to write her own songs, uses gifted makeup sets so as to paint on paper, plays football competitively. She is a gorgeous little creature (Masha Allah) and, as aforesaid, I think she is awesome. But she has all these strong doubts about herself. Thinks herself to be, among other things, ‘inadequate’ as a girl.

“I don’t want to be ‘unique’. Unique means weird.

“Well, I think it means singular and extraordinary!”

Cole Mackenzie and Anne, Anne with an E

Sometimes she finds she is excluded from certain little friendship groups. On account of being who and how she is, apparently. When I try to remind her of the beauty of this ‘who and how she is’, she is able to remember the good of herself momentarily, but then forgets, in the faces of those strong oppositional forces.

How difficult it is to build a building: brick-by-brick. How comparatively easy it is to knock the entire thing down. 

When one feels seen, yet not at all smiled at: this can prove to be a rather terrifying ordeal indeed. Put under a spotlight, feeling mortified and exposed, prodded and gawked at. Like you are a lab rat, some strange creature. Undeserving. Not belonging; social death.

Or, of course, on the flip-side, one may find oneself feeling smiled at, and yet, not truly seen. When one hides the truths of oneself, defensively, for acceptance, maybe; for fear of not being approved of. The smiles themselves: we may find that they do not fulfil. They can feel rather inauthentic… because it is not truly you that is being smiled at, is it?

Finally, rather tragically, one may come to find oneself in a state of feeling neither seen, nor smiled at. Whereby one’s truths are hidden, out of fear of not being accepted by others. Whereby masks are not worn, either. It is like such people have come to accept utter defeat; are now shrouded in a state of feeling completely societally rejected, and subsequently quite hopeless, fearing always floating, never belonging. But I think they are still there, somewhere. Our true/potential selves do not simply die while we ourselves remain alive: they can get unfavourably covered up for a while, sure. Or neglected, or hindered. But they are never lost. And, in due time, and with the love and support of the right people for us, oh how we find we can grow! 

Children (and indeed we, us over-aged children) need to be reminded, time and time again, of who we are, from the perspective of those who truly love us [us. Not whom they want us to be!] and whom we, in return, also love. That ‘to-and-fro’ thing, again. And, over and over again. Because, (when it concerns qualities that are not distinctively morally wrong) there are always at least two ways of looking at things.

“Too quiet”, for instance, can be exchanged for “contemplative”: a brilliant quality to have, actually. “Weird” can be swapped for “spirited”. “Shy” can be rephrased as “endearing”.

And, on matters concerning physical appearance, no baby is born feeling that he or she is “ugly”. But often, all it takes for a child to suddenly feel bad about one or more of their qualities is… a single comment.

“Different isn’t bad. It’s just not the same.

— Anne with an E

From back when I had been the same age as the aforementioned cousin of mine, I remember how much the tiniest comments would affect me. For example, an aunt of mine had taught me to think that having ‘baby hairs’ was a bad thing. So, at home, I tried exceedingly hard to scrub it all off. But now I know that many people consider these baby hairs to be a positive and desirable thing to have. A similar occurrence, concerning my slightly-upturned nose. A relative of mine teased me about it, calling it a “pig nose”. So I would exert myself to push my nose downwards, in the hope that it would become permanently like this, someday. But, now I know that many consider upturned noses to be “cute”, actually.

A final example, concerning the colour of my skin. As a very young child, my skin had been very fair. And, as a result of some deeply colourist South Asian standards, I had been complimented for this, quite a lot. An aunt of mine even made jokes about wanting to swap her own daughter for me, since I had been fairer than my cousin.

[You know, it is not uncommon for people to comment, as soon as a child is born, on the colour of his or her skin: on how (apparently, consequently) ‘pretty’ or ‘ugly’ the baby is, or will turn out to be. And these attitudes are quite disgusting.]

Anyway, I did not care much for the fact that my skin colour had been granted so much value in the eyes of certain relatives of mine. I liked to play outside in the sun; let my skin turn browner. A particular relative of mine started to insult me, calling me “dirt-coloured”, and treating me differently. But, I did not care. I told her that she, by contrast, was fair, just like bacteria, and just like the bottom of my feet.

A bit savage, I know. But I figured I did not need nor want the approval and acceptance of a person who wanted to determine the value of a child by how fair or dark their skin was. This was not a value that I had aspired towards: so why should the disapproval of someone with such a value have mattered, to me? I guess I chose to give this particular person less power in my eyes. Who was she, to determine any ‘truths’ about me, anyway?

No, I did not feel like I ‘belonged’, with a person like her. But, nor did I want to: the apparent criteria that would have been necessary for this were simply not worth it!

Personality-based features (again, when they are not rooted in immorality), and appearance-based ones: one may find that there are always different perspectives that one can choose to have, on any given thing. Positive, or neutral, or bad. Being tall: desirable to some; a neutral thing to be, for others. And an awful thing to be, in the perspectives of some. Being bookish: desirable, neutral, or terrible.

See, on the level of people, there are as many distinctive ‘truths’ as there are pairs of eyes! And, different eyes [can choose to] see different ‘truths’, about the very same thing: whether this be concerning the entirety of a person, or about certain isolated features of theirs. Brown skin. Or ginger hair. Freckles, chubby cheeks, mono-lid eyes. They can be seen, and are seen, by different groups of people, as being good, or neutral, or ‘bad‘. Now which group, of the three, would it be best for you to agree with, when it comes to you and your attributes?

You might find you are “too religious,” for some. Perfectly so, for others. “Too boisterous,” for some. Brilliantly so, for others. “Too into […] stamp-collecting [?],” for some. And splendidly so, for others. And there will always, always, always be some people on this Earth who will deeply approve of you, as well as some people who will really not. 

The ones who will really see you, and therefore love you… I hope they are the friends that you will have, through life. I hope they know to honour you, and you, them. And your respective colours. And how the jigsaw pieces might fit together. I hope the soil nurtures your growth and theirs, really and truly.

Anyway, what certain people say, and the ‘standards’ that are decided as a result of these opinions: these are not the ‘gatekeepers’ of Truth. Even when it comes to things like beauty standards: do you not see how these fashions ebb and flow, and change, and what they are, altogether, in light of? Quite frivolous, for the most part. Sometimes fleeting, often unsubstantial.

If you ever find yourself having been insulted for a trait or feature that you may have, I challenge you to try to immediately remind yourself that “there is another way of looking at this“. Whatever they may be saying, there is another thing that can be said, regarding the very same thing: a more positive outlook. Now, just what could this be?

Who had taught you to think the bad things you might think of yourself, currently? And, why should they have the authority to be able to make such a decision, concerning you? Why should you have to believe them?

I promise you: where there is a choice to see beauty, and when you then choose to see it, beauty grows. In you, and in others.

You are a brilliant pear tree; why should I complain about your ‘failure’ to produce apples? You are a gorgeous wintry sun; who am I to expect, from you, heat? Or, you are a sunflower. Why ought I to be disappointed to find that your petals are not red and pleated?

Be whom you are, my friend. And bloom from whom you are. You will have your ‘right’ ones who notice and appreciate; you will have your ‘not-so-right’ ones who find they cannot do so. And this is okay, for you are you, and they are they. There is no need to meet everybody’s seeming ‘expectations’ of you: no, for you may just completely lose yourself in the process.

We all, from the places of our very cores, seek to be smiled at, after being seen. And, there is no substitute for real (love-based) connections, which are rooted in the very aforesaid phenomenon. Some people might seek seen-ness and smiles from others, through avenues such as fame. But no, no. Mere popularity is no substitute for the real stuff: it is no substitute at all.

 

Just whose validation is it that you seek, and why? And whose disapproval do you fear so much, and why? 

 

Now, if you are able to do so, dear friend, I encourage you to look into a mirror: any mirror. And right into your own eyes. It might feel quite strange and intense at first, but… be sure to soften your gaze a little. There. I hope you feel seen now. And now, smile. A most sincere and welcoming smile. Feel seen, and in a most accepting, appreciative, supportive way. Even if some of the people around you are unable to do the same: herein might just lie the first step. Being on one’s own side, while standing on the other side of the mirror. And then, simply choosing to focus on what is good and true. 

“It’s not what the world holds for you.

It’s what you bring to it.”

— Anne with an E

Somehow, one must try to root oneself in soil that will help one to grow; to see others, too, and to smile upon their existences, also. To be with people who love you; to love them right back. To feel connected; to want to always be able to look into their eyes; to miss their smiles when they are not there. To discover more about them and their lives; more things to smile for, and to support.

To really feel seen, and to also sincerely feel smiled at. Is this not the basis of all human love? 

And one must give out this willingness to try to understand, and to appreciate, others, with the sincere hope that you, too are deserving of such treatment. Whether this is granted to you from the hearts of many, or solely from the hearts of a few. 

The greatest thing one can aspire to in life is to love, and to then be loved, too. 

 


Sadia Ahmed J., 2020 

Ask Sadia: Feeling Rotten

 

Screenshot 2020-03-15 at 20.12.21Screenshot 2020-03-15 at 20.12.32

Dear M.,

Thank you for your submission.

Truth be told, I’m not really in a position to dish out diagnoses right now [currently, I have literally no psychological qualifications – not even a GCSE in the subject!] however I would definitely advise you to consider seeking out an official diagnosis for what you may have and perhaps some therapy: you might be suffering from mild depression – or dysthymia, as it is sometimes otherwise known.

We need to remember that the thing about other people is that they will always have differing, and subjective, opinions on pretty much everything, including on you. One person may love a certain type of chocolate; his brother may absolutely detest it. Opinions also change cross-temporally. What a person loves with all their heart one day, they may come to despise the very next day.

But is it healthy to allow our views of ourselves to be attached to other people’s opinions/perceptions of us, when we know how unstable – and, how oftentimes inaccurate – such opinions can be? You are who you say you are. It took me a while to fully understand this [firstly, I come from a big Desi extended family, which can be rather gratuitously judgemental at times; secondly, I went to a secondary school at which ‘differences’ within individuals were often deeply frowned upon] but it is undoubtedly true. You will not be palatable to everybody; this is an unavoidable fact. You will be loved by some; loathed by others. But you have the power to choose which group of people you invest your time and efforts into. And, ultimately, the only two beings you actually need validation from are, a) God, and b) yourself – your core self, and not any diluted version of you that others concoct in their own faulty imaginations. Seek advice from your loved ones, definitely, but only seek real validation from God and from yourself.

And are you really an intrinsically bad – a ‘rotten’ – person? Is it not true that all of us are deeply flawed as human beings? We all have our ‘cons’ and we all have our merits. But what we focus on tends to be what grows. So if you internally punish yourself by ruminating on all your deficiencies and flaws, you will come to see these perceptively negative traits as your most defining ones.

I would say that these worries of yours are very real concerns, but I also want to reassure you that they are all surmountable. Even the ongoing feelings of sadness and rottenness are completely superable, Insha-Allah.

I think you should know that this has very much been one of my personal struggles, too: that of fully being comfortable within myself; self-validating, self-regulating, self-loving. This is what I think you might need to intentionally work on: if your core is secure and fulfilled, you will be able to internalise compliments from your loved ones and such in a healthy manner. And [I know with this whole Corona crisis, the practice is strongly being encouraged but] social isolation is not a particularly productive practice. In doing so – in ‘distancing’ yourself, because of your personal insecurities – you are not heroically ‘protecting’ yourself and others. Human beings need other human beings. Your friends are made up of flaws, merits, mistakes, and accomplishments, just like you are. Good friends support each other: they can confide in one another, and they build one another up. So overcoming these struggles with feeling ‘like a bad person’ and such will likely necessitate firstly building a good relationship with yourself, and, secondarily, also actively nurturing your relationships with others. It is so okay if you slip up from time to time: this means that you are human, and that you are trying.

You are not a burden. And you are highly probably not permanently ‘broken’. All people are a little bit ‘broken’, and a little bit ‘ugly’ in terms of the things we feel and do. But there is beauty in all of us, too. We need to focus on this inherent beauty; we must allow this to flourish! There is a Hadith that tells us that for every son of Adam, and for every daughter of Eve, there are some who will love him/her, and some who will dislike him/her. The things that some may love in you, others will find a way to flip into something perceptively ugly. Haters will be haters, but only we get to decide if…they get to decide who we are [if that made any sense at all…].

And it is absolutely never the wrong time to ‘begin again’ if you feel like doing so. Pray to Allah (SWT), and ask Him to help you on this journey. With a little bit of effort on our parts, we can wash away all considerations of yesterday; of our heightened self-critical faculties. Let’s be reasonable and rational here: we are flawed beings, each trying our best. And the fact that you care about being a good – a better – person shows that you are probably not ‘rotten’ at all. Within the Islamic tradition, is it not true that Allah (SWT) forgives all sins if we turn to Him? If our Rabb is so very forgiving toward us, why is it that we tend to be so very unforgiving towards ourselves? 

I wish you the best of luck on this journey of healing of yours, dear M. And Insha-Allah, in due time, and in parallel with your trying to be kind to, and gentle with, yourself, all these negative feelings will subside, and all that is (inherently) good within you will come to bloom. Bismillah.

Sincerely,

 

Sadia.

Ask me a question (or tell me what’s on your mind) here


Sadia Ahmed, 2020

On Toxic Positivity

Artwork: Naajiyah Saarah-Sultana (Instagram: @naaajagram) 

You may have looked at the title of this article to find that the term I have used in it sounds somewhat oxymoronic: how could positivity – which, by definition, is inherently good – ever be toxic? Well, it comes back to the recurring message of this blog about good things only being good in moderation: even water, so integral to our existence, becomes toxic when over-consumed.

There is, undoubtedly, a point where negativity – cynicism, pessimism, a monomaniacal commitment to only seeing the bad in situations and people – becomes irritating and detrimental to the wellbeing of others. “Good vibes only,” some people declare in their Instagram bios, in retaliation to this seemingly trendy bitterness. And “No negative energy” forms the self-declared motto of many people’s lives nowadays – or, rather, what they choose to show of them. This resolve towards positivity at the expense of negative intrusions can be useful, of course: we do, at least to some extent, attract and manifest what we expect. However, if we unrealistically attempt to close ourselves off to all forms of negativity, we run the risk of concealing and suppressing our (rather normal, healthy) negative emotions.

Consequently, in doing so, we risk becoming bad friends. Good friendships depend on a mutual exchange of authentic expression, and if we fictitiously portray ourselves as being absolutely indifferent and immune to negativity, our friends may not feel comfortable enough to discuss with us their (once again, rather normal, healthy) negative emotions. Moreover, it is unbelievably selfish, I think, to (whether directly or indirectly) abandon our friends at their lowest points merely in order to fulfil our own unrealistic expectations of being surrounded by exclusively ‘positive chakras’.

There is no need to apologise for not smiling all of the time. Neutrality and negativity are essential components in any healthy emotional mind-set, and being real about such emotions is better than being dismissive and avoidant. Furthermore, oftentimes, responding to others’ occasional expressions of dispiritedness with well-meaning exclamations of “You’ll get over it!” or “Just be happy!” or “Good vibes only!” is comparable to endeavouring to treat deep and grotesque wounds with… little Peppa Pig plasters. When left unsubstantiated, these plasters of unhelpful advice are decorative and futile.

Granted, the toxically positive tend to have good intentions: they simply do not want to feel or indulge in any negative emotions whatsoever, nor do they want to accidentally absorb anybody else’s ‘toxicity’. Negativity in its extreme forms is damaging, but it is by no means an intrinsically toxic thing to experience. We all feel such emotions, and we do so for a reason; our brains are alerted to the fact that something is wrong, and, thus, that something needs to be done about it. And this is where friends return to the equation. Of course, we cannot expect too much from our friends emotionally; they do have their own lives and issues to tend to. But it is not immoderate nor audacious to expect our friends to help us combat our negative thoughts – at least some of them, some of the time. Unfortunately, some (notably, usually the ones who have not yet learnt to embrace and deal with their negative emotions in a healthy manner) turn away at the first signs of negativity in others. They are trying to protect ‘their vibe’ (whilst simultaneously concealing their own neglected emotional abysses) and come to perceive the victim as a villain attempting to infiltrate their own sphere of positive energy. Yes, emotional vampires certainly do exist and are unpleasant to constantly be around, but it is not healthy at all to expect ourselves nor others to be fully okay all of the time.

And, truth be told, the excessively, toxically ‘positive’ are just as irritating and unhelpful as their toxically negative counterparts.


Sadia Ahmed, 2019 

Where Sunflowers Grow

Sometimes people step where sunflowers grow,

Sometimes they do not mean to,

But sometimes they do,

Because people have a tendency to destroy the things that they deem

Beautiful.

 

I am too serious; I am no fun at all.

I am too quiet and too talkative,

Too small, and yet I take up too much space.

I am unfriendly and arrogant,

Too outspoken, and yet too reserved.

I am a paradox, an oxymoron, a walking

Bundle of contradictions.

I am too sensitive, and yet too severe,

I am too much, but I am never enough,

And I will never be enough:

Even if I were to drown, I’d still need more water.

 

Sometimes, when breathing in the oxygen of this Earth becomes unbearable,

I wish I could escape to the skies, beyond the rigid confines

of this atmosphere.

I wish I could pick the stars from the galaxy like plums,

And I wish that the Sun were a mango,

And that life was always just as sweet.

 

So I apologise, sincerely, for taking up the space that I do,

But I hope you know that whatever you are thinking about me,

I’ll be thinking it too.

 

Because people speculate;

They spit out their words like sunflower seeds,

Stormy showers sent down from skies of darkness,

They have the upper hand,

But little do they know that the darkness behind me is proof of the sunlight

That lies ahead.

 

And little do they know,

That their words do not hurt me-

They only make my garden grow.


Sadia Ahmed, 2017