(in)visibility
One of the more prevalent themes in storytelling is the duality of visibility and invisibility of both groups and individuals. There is an innate human desire to be seen, as if the very act proves our existence. Yet at the same time, there is safety in not being noticed; there is peace and calm in blending in with the pack. Why are these two things, which appear diametrically opposed, so important to our mental and social well-being?
We all seek validation in some way, assurance that what we are doing is accepted and respected. In many respects, validation is the social glue that keeps us all together. All social interaction relies on expressions of respect. People show each other that we understand and respect one another by validating who we are and what we do. I would even go so far as to say that almost every human interaction could be classified as some form of validation or rejection. We praise one another or castigate. We permit or censor. We call for others’ approval or lead each other to condemn. From simple interactions with coffee shop baristas to the most complex of international trade negotiations, we seek to validate one another and ourselves. The very act of acknowledging each other with a simple “hello” shapes both our ongoing mental health and forms the foundation of who we are to each other.
When we acknowledge one another, we validate that our behaviors, opinions, and appearance are all within some level of societal norms. The act of seeing and being seen is itself a way in which we communicate our mutual existence, yet our ability to acknowledge each other’s presence is also a sign of respect and an understanding of the social contract between us. When we say “hello,” we tell each other that we are present and able to communicate; we say that we are part of something together. This, the most fundamental of vocal communications, establishes that we understand each other as peers. Greetings become the first way we respect each other’s status as a fellow human being.
At the same time, there are moments when we wish not to be seen, not to be singled out, and times when we might even question if we wish to be human at all. The desire to not be seen crops up when we feel invalidated, ashamed, or hopeless. Even a simple greeting can be impossible when we are red in the face with embarrassment. Our inability to validate the presence of others in these moments mirrors our desire to no longer feel the way we do in those moments. In these moments, we judge ourselves as unworthy of being members of society, just as we assume others wouldn’t wish to interact with us.
Yet when are we valid in our wish to be invisible, and when might it be better for those feelings to be invalidated?
Invisibility can offer some of us a valid form of temporary safety from shame, hatred, and even violence. Our ability to hide within the masses becomes a form of validation itself. Telling ourselves that we fit in with others and are less likely to become victims is the myth we attempt to reinforce when we disappear here. At these times, the lack of acknowledgment becomes a means to an end, that end being the false feeling of safety and well-being. Although it is easy to see how this is a temporary and fallacious reassurance.
There is a fundamental truth that we ignore, though, when we try to hide from ourselves and others: our humanity. Abandoning any form of social validation leads us to isolation, to fear, and to our own detriment. It isn’t until we can allow others to validate us, to see us as we are, that we grow again as members of humanity itself. In this same respect, to push others from being seen due to something out of their control may be the most detestable crime against our fellow man that we can commit. It becomes a self-destructive cycle, pushing others away from us into the shadows. Eventually, we are left only staring into the void we made of ourselves.
When we refuse to see those around us, we refuse to see ourselves, and then we all stop being human.
Encourage yourself to be better, to see each other everyday. To see those who are seen the least, today.
