To Be Seen or To Be Safe: The Cost of Hiding and the Freedom of Showing Up

It makes you wonder — which is harder?

To feel a sense of belonging to someone, something, or a community… but only with parts of you fully known. The rest remains tucked away in fear.
You never fully rest in the assurance of your worth. You wonder: Do they love me? Or do they only love the parts of me I’ve curated for them?

So you become what you think they want or need you to be.
You violate your own needs.
You soften your voice.
You hide your mess.
You hold back your hurt.
You avoid conflict and vulnerability — not because you’re dishonest, but because rejection feels unbearable. And because of that, you never fully trust that you are truly known… and still loved.

Or...

To show up — fully.
To risk being seen in your vulnerability, your humanity, your flaws and brilliance alike.
To tell the truth, even when it’s not polished.
To risk being too much. Or not enough.
To face the reality that some people — even ones you’ve deeply wanted — will not choose you as you are.

But in that risk, you gain something you’ve never had before: freedom.
The kind of freedom that doesn’t require you to keep proving your worth.
No more managing perception.
No more overexplaining or shrinking to maintain connection.
No more wondering if love is conditional — you’ll know, because you showed up as your full self.

And you’ll also know this:
There are people who exist in the world who can see you — fully — and still choose you.
I promise you, they do exist.

The degree to which you allow yourself to be seen is the degree to which you’ll be able to trust the love you receive.

Being loved well requires presence—not just of your best parts, but of your real ones.
Not the perfect, curated, easy-to-love version of you.
But the whole, honest, work-in-progress version. The one who’s healing, growing, aching, hoping. The one who is human.

Today, I’m reflecting with gratitude on the relationships that gave me the courage to do just that — to step forward, to own my story, to take the risk of being seen and rejected, and still... keep showing up. For myself. And for the people around me doing the same.

Yes, you may grieve what you lose when you stop performing for love.
But I can tell you: you won’t regret showing up for yourself—not once.
And in doing so, you also make space for others to do the same.

So ask yourself:
How will I choose to show up today?
What parts of me are longing to be known — and loved — as they are?

Because you deserve that kind of love.
And it starts with choosing to be fully here.

Hatty J. Lee, LMFT (she/her) is an Asian American licensed marriage and family therapist and brainspotting practitioner who has been practicing for 14 years in community mental health settings, schools, and private practice virtually across California and in-person in Los Angeles and Pasadena, California. As the founder and clinical director of a group practice called Oak and Stone Therapy in Los Angeles, CA, she trains clinicians and supports people to deepen their relationship with themselves and the most important people in their lives. She writes about mental health on her Instagram and is the co-author of The Indwell Guide that integrates visual storytelling, mental health education, and practical tools to support people to heal and thrive.

Hatty J. Lee

Oak & Stone Therapy is a team of Asian American therapists who offers individual, couples, child and teens, and family therapy virtually across California and in-person in Los Angeles and Pasadena, California.

http://www.oakandstonetherapy.com
Previous
Previous

The Problem with Unsolicited Advice: When Helping Isn’t Helpful

Next
Next

The Fear of Celebrating Ourselves: When Success Feels Unsafe in Relationships