If I could see out from this page who would I see? A tall, handsome man. A petite lady of 32. A millennial with firey red hair. Grey hair and wrinkles from a life well lived. A 45 year old man rushing to or from his office. A stay at home dad making breakfast. A retired solicitor. A nurse on her wind down after a long shift. I often wonder who I would see if only I could look out from this page.
I’ve described you but only the outer you. If I could see past the external layers, into your eyes and deep inside I wonder who I would see. There are times when you look at someone, face to face, eye to eye and you can read through to their very soul if they allow you to. Yes, you know those moments don’t you, the ones of which I speak, those moments when nothing and no one else exists, the moment where a hundred emotions are expressed and yet not a word is said. Those moments when you cannot lie.
What about another moment, a normal day, a stressful time, an average day in the life of a friend, a lover, an acquaintance. Can you read them? Can you see who they are? Do they show you all or only what they want you to see? If I stepped from the page now and looked how much would you, could you, should you reveal? I’d love to say I’d like it to be everything, the real you, the human you, the excitable, compassionate you, the fighter, the dancer, the lover, the racer, the philanthropist, the entrepreneur, the mum, the husband, the sad you. But I think not.
I think I would see only the outer you in most cases because it’s all you allow the world to see. It’s all you can be because it’s all you know. You would allow me to see the one dimensional you, the cardboard cutout, the pasted on version, the masked you because it’s all you can allow, all you are able to give. I get it. Reveal anything else, even a glimpse of who you are inside and I will see it all. It’s who I am and what I do. How? Because I’ve been there so know the signs. Why? Because I don’t want anyone else to sit where I sat. I care for the inner you, the one you hide and I have a space which I hold where it’s safe to let them out.
When you look at this page, who do you see looking out? A nosey woman, an older woman, a fighter, a lover, a carer, a passionate woman but with fear still in her eyes, a sad woman, a lonely one, a loved person with good family and friends, a depressed or angry person, a writer, a dancer, a whizz in the kitchen, a therapist, a compassionate human, a giggler or just words on a page which catch you unawares sometimes? I have no idea and it’s up to you to paint the picture from what I reveal.
Create me, paint me, give me shape and form. Give me a personality, a face, a life you think I could lead, then reveal some of you for others, for me, to see. Show them, show me what hides behind those eyes reading these words. You are not just a face, a pair of eyes, a reader. To me you are human, a person, a personality, a bundle of emotions, flesh, raw and maybe you are scared to let go of this facade you show, but it’s okay, it’s safe because most of all, you deserve to be seen.