Thank you for seeing me.
So many times, when others look at me, I don’t really feel seen. I don’t feel noticed.
That’s not the case with you.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s taken time and lots of work for us to find this rhythm—and we will be working on it, I am sure, the rest of our days—but you put in the work.
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You’ve learned when I just need to vent, and you have learned what I feel passionate about—and in both you see me.
You get me. You hear me. You lean in, instead of away.
When I have had a hard day, when I just feel like I have nothing left, you get up with the kids, even if it’s my turn, even if it’s your only day off. You run the extra errands or pick up the extra chores.
You don’t just look at me (or through me).
You don’t just half-offer support or try to force a positive spin.
You don’t just ask a few questions or pretend to care.
You’re all in.
You see what brings me joy, what makes me cry, when I am drained, and when I’m hurt. You see it all. In me.
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While some may offer this up as an expectation rather than something to be praised, we know that in this world this genuine connection isn’t as common as we would like and often doesn’t come that easy.
And when someone really sees us, all of us, that’s something to celebrate. Something to encourage and uplift and shout to the world about.
Because being seen—being fully known and still fully loved—is one of the most healing and invaluable gifts we can give one another, and I would never ever want to take that for granted.
So, to my husband: Thank you for seeing me.