The Day Someone Saw Me Beyond the Surface

There’s a moment that hits you when it happens—the gravitational shift when someone actually sees you. Not the polite nod strangers offer on the bus or the corporate faux-smile exchanged in office Zoom calls, but the kind of recognition that lands somewhere between your ribcage and your soul. It’s rare, almost mythical, like spotting a unicorn in your backyard. For me, that moment happened in the most unassuming place: a used bookstore on a drizzly October afternoon. Cliché? Maybe. But let me set the scene.

The Bookstore Blues and an Unexpected Revelation

I’d gone to the bookstore for what I thought would be a chill Saturday plan. The kind that feels productive but requires minimum effort. I was there to browse—pretentious coffee cup in one hand, an overpriced flannel jacket shielding me from the Chicago cold. My goal? An afternoon of flipping through old Baldwin books, looking busy but unbothered.

Then came the moment—a voice from the other aisle slicing through my solitude like the opening riff in a Miles Davis track: “You don’t seem like a ‘Go Tell It on the Mountain’ kind of guy. More of a ‘Notes of a Native Son,’ right?”

I looked up, startled, and there she was. Short curls, glasses that screamed intellect with a side of sass, and an aura like she’d seen every inch of me in one glance. I scrambled for a response, but my brain short-circuited. How did she just—? Was this the slickest line I’d ever heard? Or was she psychic?

Examining the Layers: What Does It Mean to Be Seen?

The moment wasn’t about flirtation (though full transparency: her smile? Chef’s kiss). It was the recognition. Strangers don’t usually pin you with such dead accuracy on the first try. Yet this woman had clocked my love for Baldwin in a way even some of my best friends couldn’t.

She reminded me of something important: feeling seen isn’t a mirror moment—it’s deeper. It’s about someone reading the subtext of who you are. Noticing the jazz records stacked behind your bookshelf or the way you clutch your notebook like armor. It's someone picking up what you're putting down, even when you think you've hidden it well.

When the Surface Doesn’t Match the Story

Authenticity is a buzzword these days—you hear it tossed around Instagram captions and corporate mission statements like parsley on soup: pretty but forgettable. We say we want to be seen and understood, but let’s be real: most of us walk through the world hiding behind carefully curated versions of ourselves.

Take my teenage years, for example. Back in high school, I desperately wanted to belong. I edited myself down to what I thought was digestible—less “nerdy book kid who loves Gwendolyn Brooks,” more “cool enough to pass, but not stand out.” It wasn’t until college that I met people who embraced the parts of me I thought I had to downplay. The Chicago kid who quoted Langston Hughes at parties? Yeah, turns out he could be cool and lovable.

Fast forward to today, and the older me is more likely to embrace contradictions. Still, how often do we armor up in relationships, even when we crave closeness? Whether it’s two dates in or two years deep, it takes courage to show your untamed, quirky, unfiltered self. To be seen, you have to risk being exposed. Scary? Of course. But worth it? A thousand times yes.

3 Lessons That Moment Taught Me About Connection

That Saturday bookstore conversation lasted maybe twenty minutes before we both vanished into life’s chaos. (Yes, I took her number. And no, this isn’t a rom-com ending where we get married three months later—this is a real-life story after all). What mattered most wasn’t her but what the interaction awakened in me. Here’s what I took away:

  1. Drop the Facade. People can’t truly see you if all you’re showing them is a highlight reel. Let them in on who you are behind the filters. It’s not about oversharing; it’s about being unapologetically real. Love anime? Bring it up on date #2! Have a weird obsession with retro sneakers? Own that vibe. The right people will appreciate your layers, not cringe at them.

  2. Pay Attention to People’s Subtext. Connection is a two-way street. Want to be seen? Start by making someone else feel acknowledged. Ask questions that dig deeper. Notice the way their eyes light up when they talk about a passion project or the way they tense up when they’re guarding something vulnerable.

  3. Accept Self-Reflection as Part of the Process. Sometimes, you need to SEE yourself first before anyone else can. Ask yourself: “Am I presenting the person I truly am, or the one I think people want to meet?” (Spoiler alert: Trying to be someone you’re not is exhausting and totally unnecessary.) Get to know your oddities, your vulnerabilities, and your joys—they’re what make you magnetic.

Closing the Loop: Why Recognition Matters

Moments like the one in the bookstore aren’t just affirming—they’re transformative. They remind us that in a world obsessed with surface-level interactions (thanks, Instagram and TikTok), deeper connections still exist. But here’s the thing: if you’re still tiptoeing around your own reflection, it’s hard to let others get a proper look.

That day, glasses-wearing jazz enthusiast Stranger #1 wasn’t seeing some polished version of “DeAndre, the Writer Guy.” She saw the literary nerd who’s forever hunting the next Baldwin for my moodboard of life. Whether it’s in dating, friendships, or family dynamics, people will surprise you—if you let them.

So here’s my advice: Lean into the spaces that feel authentically you. Be the person flipping through dusty used books or humming the Kanye samples Miles Davis inspired. And when the moment happens—when someone “gets” you so well you can feel it—you’ll know exactly what to say:

“Finally. Someone sees me.”