The first time I felt truly seen wasn’t during a grand romantic gesture or a milestone moment—it happened over a plate of moussaka. Bear with me. This story starts in Athens, at my family’s restaurant, where every Thursday my father would attempt to recreate his mother’s version of the classic dish. “Attempt” being the operative word. It was delicious, don’t get me wrong, but to my grandmother, it lacked what she called the “soul of moussaka.” The phrase became a family joke, a polite critique we’d whip out at every overly ambitious recipe or underwhelming attempt at life’s finer things.

But one Thursday, as I endured my father’s culinary monologue—how eggplants are tragically misunderstood, the correct béchamel texture being a divine pursuit—a woman at the next table laughed, not at the food, but at something I said under my breath. She turned, leaned in, and said, half-smirking, “Soul of moussaka? Sounds like a Kazantzakis novel.”

I blinked. If Cupid had swapped his bow for a spatula, this would have been his moment.

Seeing Beyond the Surface

There’s something magical about feeling recognized—a spark like the universe handing you a little “yes” card. But for someone to see you, authentically see you, they must first look past what’s obvious. It’s not about your Instagram highlights or the carefully curated version of yourself. It’s about what lies beneath: quirks, insecurities, passions you rarely share because, let’s face it, who else waxes poetic about béchamel sauce and philosophy?

So, when this stranger at the table recognized my casual Kazantzakis reference—a niche Greek novelist not exactly breaking trending hashtags—I felt something deeper click. She wasn’t just seeing me; she was hearing me. She opened a door to a side of myself I often kept tucked away for fear of seeming too obscure, too "Greek islandish," too me.

When We Hide, Who Finds Us?

Let’s level for a moment, shall we? Modern relationships are often a duel of highlights—flashing your most likeable traits while silently hoping your flaws don’t sound the alarm. Vulnerability, we’re told, walks a delicate tightrope between endearing and, well, “too much.”

But hiding leaves no room to connect over the very things that make us, well, us. Imagine if I hadn’t shared that moussaka quip. Imagine she hadn’t mustered the courage to jump into someone else’s family moment. Instead of connection, we might have had silence—two people playing it safe, their stories left unheard.

The truth is, being seen requires letting yourself be seen. And if you think this sounds frighteningly philosophical, congratulations—it is. The ancient Greeks arguably invented overthinking, and as my roots would have it, I’m no different. But as intimidating as self-exposure sounds, the payoff is worth every ounce of risk.

Finding Your "Soul of Moussaka" Moments

Okay, so maybe you’re not waiting on the philosophical validation of a semi-obscure literary reference. Still, the principle applies: to be seen, to truly connect, asks for courage, curiosity, and a little serendipity. Here’s how to embrace those moments where the world might just “get” you:

  • Take Vulnerable Risks in Small Doses: Vulnerability doesn’t have to be a grand exposé of your inner turmoil. Start small. Crack a joke you think only three people in the world will get. Share the odd hobby or random obsession that lights up your eyes. Not everyone will understand, but the ones who do? Magic.

  • Pay Attention to What Lights You Up: For me, it was the mix of food, philosophy, and humor that shaped the moment I felt seen. Think about what makes you animated—whether it’s a genre of music, a childhood story, or your inexplicable love for 90s rom-coms (no judgment—I’m team When Harry Met Sally). When you know your passions, you’ll recognize the people who see you for them.

  • Ask Questions That Matter: Being seen isn’t a one-sided pursuit. Take an active role in seeing others too. Ask questions that matter—like what their guilty pleasure book is or the weirdest thing they’ve eaten on vacation. Connection thrives on curiosity, and the bridges we build often lead back to ourselves.

  • Embrace the Awkward Beauty of Serendipity: Real, authentic connection rarely comes wrapped in a tidy bow. It happens in the unpolished, unexpected moments—over a mismatched family meal, during an awkward taxi ride, or when you’re mid-rant about Plato’s ideal forms. It’s messy, sure, but it’s real.

Why Being Seen Is the Best Aphrodisiac

Spoiler alert: I don’t remember what we talked about for the next hour after that restaurant encounter. I don’t remember if my dad sent her free baklava or if my grandmother’s “soul” argument triggered yet another spirited debate. All I remember was the feeling: the warm, heady buzz of being understood, like someone had skimmed your soul and thought, “Yeah, I’ll stick around for this story.”

It wasn’t just attractive; it was intimate. Because being seen isn’t just about recognition—it’s about resonance. It’s about someone feeling your puzzle piece and knowing they hold something that fits.

Letting the World See You

If you’re reading this thinking, “Well, that’s all very poetic, Dimitri, but how exactly am I supposed to let my eggplant-flavored inner self shine?” Take heart. The goal isn’t perfection; it’s authenticity. Let them see your passion and your awkwardness, your quirks and your big questions. Trust me, the right people—the ones who laugh at your jokes and find themselves nodding at your unpopular opinions—will notice.

So here’s my plea: let yourself be seen, flaws and all, whether it’s in a romantic connection, a family squabble, or that casual moment where you accidentally say something completely “you” out loud. Someone out there is waiting to say, “Soul of moussaka? I get that.” And when it happens, you’ll know.

Life’s too short to hide the good parts.