The Person Who Saw Me

Seeing the Unseeable: A Chance Encounter at the Right Time

Sometimes, the person who changes your life doesn’t know they’re auditioning for a starring role in your personal narrative. They roll in, say the thing you didn’t even realize you needed to hear, and change how you see yourself forever. For me, that “person” wasn’t a soul mate, although I will wax poetic about this like it’s the plotline of Before Sunrise. It wasn’t even someone already in my orbit. It was Dr. Anita Graham, my undergraduate professor and one-woman confidence brigade.

I enrolled in American Studies at UT Austin like many wide-eyed college kids who think reading bell hooks will singlehandedly prepare them for the real world. Don’t get me wrong—I loved it. But what I didn’t expect was the existential dread that set in junior year when my peers started confidently outlining their five-year plans. Meanwhile, my plan consisted of avoiding any conversation that included the phrase, “So, what’s next for you?” I had no clue.

Cue Dr. Graham, standing at the front of a fluorescent-lit classroom in one of those epic capes that academic types always seem to rock (somewhere between Stevie Nicks and Supreme Court Justice vibes). Halfway through a discussion about societal narratives in pop culture, she stopped mid-sentence, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “Harper, I see this fire in you. Don’t let anyone convince you it’s not there.”

And that was it. There was no build-up, no magical music swelling in the background—just someone who saw me, on a random Tuesday, and rewrote the script I’d been carrying about myself. She didn’t know I hadn’t slept the night before while spiraling about whether I was wasting time in academia. She didn’t know I was questioning if my voice even mattered as much as my upbringing told me it should. She just said it, casually but sincerely. And everything changed.

The Power of Being Seen

Here’s the thing: we’ve all trained our inner critics to Olympic levels. Often, we look at ourselves and zoom in on the things we think are so dreadfully cliché—our typical taste in rom-coms (shout-out to When Harry Met Sally) or the fact that we’ve been ghosted one too many times. We think about all the potential we’ve wasted, all the paths we never walked. But sometimes, someone steps into your life, even briefly, and they’re immune to your self-doubts. They see your best parts, even the ones you’ve forgotten are there.

Dr. Graham didn’t just see my potential; she reflected it back to me with the precision of a Beyoncé stage light. That’s the gift of these chance encounters—the friend, professor, or mentor who, in one well-placed sentence, reminds you that you’re awesome in ways you didn’t even notice. It’s not that they’re handing you potential you didn’t have; they’re just holding up a mirror to reveal what’s already there.

What I Did with That Moment of Clarity

After that class, and after my small existential crisis over the weight of her words wore off, I did something radical: I believed her.

I walked into my first internship interview at the grassroots advocacy nonprofit and—despite feeling more imposter than activist—told them I wanted to help amplify community voices. Weirdly, they didn’t laugh me out of the room. Instead, they hired me and encouraged me to lead event planning. Spoiler: I crushed it.

By the time I got involved with arts education programs, I was fluent in this new language of self-empowerment: embracing imperfections, investing in growth, and believing I could combine my love for storytelling with taking action. I was no longer the girl peeking over the edge of potential; I was the woman hurling herself into opportunities, cape not included (yet).

How to See (or Be) Someone’s Dr. Graham

It’s not just about waiting for your chance moment with a life-changing guide. Maybe you can be someone else’s Dr. Graham, and trust me—this isn’t reserved for professors in bold outerwear. Relationships build on mutual growth, and here’s what this experience taught me about both seeing and being seen:

  • Don’t underestimate a compliment: Whether it’s telling your friend their new project is going to blow everyone’s minds or recognizing when someone takes their first brave step toward love or career goals, your words have weight. And no, it’s not weird to do this with strangers (well, within reason).

  • Ask the deeper questions: Sometimes the best way to remind someone of their fire is by asking what they’re passionate about. It sounds corny—like something you’d use while awkwardly mingling at a wedding—but the sincerity sticks.

  • Trust your intuition: If you feel like someone has untapped potential, say it. Be bold. Tell your sibling they should write that children’s book or encourage your roommate to take that woodworking class. Sure, you might sound a little like Tony Robbins, but no one regrets hearing they’re capable of more than they thought.

  • Let people believe in you: This part is hard, but hear me out. It’s easy to dismiss words of encouragement because they can feel like platitudes. But try, just briefly, taking them at face value. What could shift if you believed them? What’s the first step you’d take if they were true?

The Takeaway: Your Potential Needs Witnesses

Dr. Graham wasn’t the only person who’s “seen” me, but she was the first to do so in such a way that it burrowed deep in my brain and stayed there. Recognizing someone’s inherent strength—their potential for love, creativity, resilience, or even joy—is one of the most profound gifts you can give. It’s a reminder that our journeys, while inherently solo, are endlessly influenced by the people who walk into our story and insist, “This chapter? It’s already good enough to share.”

So, here’s your permission slip: Be the Dr. Graham in someone else’s life. And if someone’s already been that person for you, honor them by daring to see yourself as they saw you. Be messy. Be bold. Be the person who believes in your own fire—and helps others tend to theirs.