The First Time I Felt Seen

It happened at a gas station off I-65. Not the setting you’d expect for a life-changing moment, right? But isn’t that just how life works? It tosses you something extraordinary when you’re mindlessly counting the pump numbers and debating if you’re brave enough to eat roller-grill hot dogs. Spoiler: I wasn’t.

It Started with a Question

That day was nothing special—I was on my way back to Montgomery after a weekend in my college town, Tuscaloosa. My playlist shuffled from Dolly Parton to Lizzo, I was tired, my hair frizzier than usual thanks to the humidity (Southern women, you know). I had that heavy “Sunday Scaries” feeling in my chest. I pulled into the station to top off my tank and drag my Red Bull-fueled self the rest of the way home.

I was scribbling my to-do list for the week on the back of a gas receipt. Work deadlines, researching archives for my latest writing project, grading essays, trying to “be better about exercising” (which honestly could’ve been a recurring to-do since 2016). Then, out of nowhere—this older man, wearing a baseball cap so worn you could barely make out the logo, leaned over from the next pump and asked, “What’re you writing there, miss?”

I could’ve waved him off, muttered some generic response like, “Just notes!” But something about the way he asked—it wasn’t prying or annoying. It was... curious. Tender, even. Like he really wanted to know. So I told him.

A Simple Introduction. A Bigger Impact.

“I’m a writer,” I blurted out, fully expecting a polite nod and the conversation to end there. Instead, he lit up like Christmas morning.

“Oh, like novels? One of them Southern storytelling types?”

It caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to people seeing what I do as something soulful, something meaningful. Usually, it was just: “Oh, you teach? Is that a backup gig? ...Wait, people study Southern Studies?” Yet here was this stranger at the Chevron who immediately recognized my work for what it was—a story, a voice.

We started chatting. Turns out, he worked for the highway department for 45 years and had been stationed all across Alabama. He told me about his favorite spots to fish, the town where his grandma lived, and how he passed time listening to audio books about “stubborn Southern families.” Then, he threw this at me: “I bet you got a story in you about me. Every Southerner’s got at least one story worth tellin’. And if you don’t write it, how’s anybody gonna know?”

Y’all. I don’t cry in public—I reserve that for country music and Nicholas Sparks adaptations—but this moment? It hit me like a freight train. It wasn’t just small talk at the pump. For the first time in a long time, I felt... seen. Fully recognized for the person I am and aspire to be. My mess of a life, my little niche passions—all of it felt valid. Like my work mattered, even in its smallness.

Choosing To Be Seen

It’s wild how one brief exchange can change the lens through which you view yourself. Ever since that gas station moment, I’ve thought about how rarely we really allow ourselves to be seen. I mean, really seen. To open our hearts, our quirks, our truest selves to those around us. It’s daunting! Vulnerability feels like handing someone the keys to your house and hoping they don’t judge the laundry pile on the guest bed (or metaphorically speaking, the 18 tabs open in your brain).

And yet, when we do it—even in the smallest, most unexpected ways—it’s transformative. Life becomes a little less lonely. Here’s what I learned from proving this to myself, one baby step at a time:

How to Embrace Authenticity in Your Day-to-Day

1. Start small.
Your “seeing and being seen” moment doesn’t have to happen on a stage or in front of a crowd. Respond to that social media comment with more than a thumbs-up emoji. Tell your barista you love her earrings. Let your guard down enough to laugh loudly at that guy’s terrible pun on a first date.

Small connections create the foundation for the bigger ones. Remember, I wasn’t at some poetry reading or networking event when I felt seen—this happened over a gas pump keypad that refused to read my credit card.

2. Share what makes you you.
Here’s the thing: No one else is walking your exact path or carrying the stories you carry. Maybe you’ve got a knack for baking pies your grandmother taught you to make, or your guilty pleasure is rewatching “The Golden Girls” (no judgment—same). Whatever your thing is, it deserves space in the world. Letting people in, even just to the edges, invites them to see and value all the intricate details that make you... well, you.

3. Be curious about others.
Let’s be real: Feeling seen didn’t start with me waving down a stranger and demanding he validate my existence. It started because someone took an interest—asked a question, listened closely, and saw something worth recognizing.

Next time you cross paths with someone, don’t stop at “How are you?” If they mention something they’re passionate about or struggling with, dig deeper. Ask them why they love it or how it’s shaped them. It’s not just about being seen—it’s about seeing others, too.

4. Let go of the fear of rejection.
This one’s a toughie because, let’s face it, you’re human. You’re going to worry what people think. But the truth is, if you’re so busy shaping yourself into someone else’s expectation, you’ll miss out on the folks who’d actually see and appreciate you if you showed up just as you are. Be brave enough to risk the wince-worthy awkward interactions—because the beautiful ones are worth it a dozen times over.

The Ripple Effect of Being Seen

After my season of perpetual grad school stress and existential dread, I needed that seemingly small moment of recognition at the gas station. It’s been years since that exchange, and I doubt that man remembers a single word we said. But I replay that moment in my mind whenever I’m doubting my voice or my purpose, leaning hard into what makes me feel alive.

And that’s the thing—for every time you feel seen, there’s a chance the person doing the seeing walks away feeling just as validated. It’s a ripple effect. A beautiful back-and-forth connection that makes our messy world feel a little less lonely.

Your Turn

The next time you’re debating whether to keep a strange thought or passion to yourself, ask yourself this: “What could happen if I let this part of me be seen?” Maybe you won’t have a gas station-level epiphany right away, and that’s okay. But letting down your guard even a little bit just might make someone else light up—and their enthusiasm will remind you exactly why you’re worth celebrating.

And if you’re lucky? Somewhere, at some unexpected I-65 pitstop in your life, you’ll find someone who looks at your quirky, frizzy, sleep-deprived self and says, “I see you. I get it.” And let me tell you: It’s everything.