Letting It Breathe: What It Feels Like to Finally Let Myself Be Seen

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I recently shared my website with a group of counselling peers — and while it might not seem like a huge act on the outside, it stirred something much deeper within me.

I haven’t even looked at the responses yet.

Not because I’m scared of judgment. But because there’s something raw about it. I don’t usually let myself be seen like this. Not fully. Not in a space where people could, if they wanted to, read everything I’ve ever written — see the truth of my journey, my pain, my healing.

And still, I chose to share it.
Not to perform.
Not to gain validation.
But to honour the work I’ve done and the person I’m becoming.

Right now, my nervous system feels it.
My body battery shows it — stress at 100%.
There’s a quiet tremble beneath the surface, the kind that comes from walking through a doorway you used to avoid. From not hiding. From choosing presence over protection.

I’m also carrying the weight of deeper emotional processing — especially around my father. Feeling his presence in some way. Feeling the ache and warmth of a connection that’s still unfolding in me. And at the same time, I’m showing up for my son. Making sure he’s okay. Making sure I’m still rooted, even if the ground is shifting.

It’s a lot.
But I’m okay.

And I realise — I don’t have to read the reactions right now.
I don’t have to check who’s validated me.
I don’t need to prove anything.

I can let it breathe.

Some people may read the post. A few might browse a little deeper.
But I doubt anyone will scrutinise it out of malice.
And if someone finds something that helps them — then I’m glad I shared it.

This environment — this group — is maybe the only space where I’d feel safe enough to share this part of myself. And that matters.

Letting myself be seen, gently and without explanation, is an act of self-respect.
And even if it doesn’t seem like a big deal — maybe it is.
Maybe it’s one of the biggest shifts I’ve made.

And I’m proud of that.