Validation

Can you see me?

They say to be loved is to be seen. To be considered. To be noticed for all the tiny fragments of ourselves, like the mesmerizing sides of a crystal, each bending light in their own unique way, creating one unified precious stone. Aren’t we all a dazzling crystal when placed in the right light?

Being noticed, seen, and ultimately loved is validation for our souls.

Validation is treated like a naughty word – a label for those who can’t find confidence on their own. For the “pick me” girls. The ones accused of not loving themselves enough. I’d like to challenge that.

What if being loved, being validated, is the root of all confidence? What if we can only reach the peaks of our lives by someone along the way admiring the very parts of ourselves we so secretly long to be noticed?

I think back to the bits of me that have been touched so tenderly by people who have loved me.

My best friends know that I will almost always order a California chicken club at any lunch spot. They have learned this over hundreds of lunches, an excuse to laugh at the same jokes and learn a little more about each other’s lives. Sometimes, they’ll order it for me if I’m running a few minutes late. Which I always am. They do not berate me for this flaw, but graciously accept me.

While we shop, my sister brings me dresses she knows I will adore. “Not my style,” she says, “but it’s so you.” How sweet it is to be seen in this way.

The barista at my favorite coffee shop knows my name and my order. I look for her each time I walk through the creaky door, hoping she hasn’t forgotten me.

My people check on me even when I seem okay. They remember important dates, ask me how I’m doing, and really, genuinely want to know the answer. They are good listeners and fierce supporters.

“This song made me think of you.” “You’d love this coffee shop!” “Look at this recipe, let’s try it when you come over.” “Sal needs this tractor book.” Their love goes on, and on, and on…

Imagine the warmth that spreads through your body when someone, truly anyone, surprises you by pointing out a detail of your world that you thought was hidden. They play the new song you showed them. Encourage you to use the special china on a regular day, just because you love it. Let you ride in the front seat because you get car sick. Always add an extra ten minutes to the drive to pick up coffee.

To be seen is to be loved.

And sometimes, sadly, we get it wrong. Don’t we? Years have passed when I did not check on my friend on the anniversary of her mother’s death. I have forgotten birthdays until way too late in the day. I have brushed off real needs as merely wants and ignored the signs that someone I loved was struggling.

I hope, and believe, they can forgive me. I am determined to be as supportive and wonderful and present as they are; I have the best examples surrounding me. I will try to plan a birthday lunch, show up (with your favorite wine or dessert) on hard days, send flowers and encouraging words on important ones.

Noticing and caring about the people in my life is the best way I know how to be someone I like.

And I will apologize when I get it wrong. And try again tomorrow.

Because having another soul notice these tiny bits of our lives — the ones that make up a whole human existence — feels like the entire purpose, if you ask me. The evidence sprinkled throughout our daily lives that others really see us, with our messy fears and wildest dreams and deepest hopes, confirms that perhaps we actually are alive, special even. The darkest part of our beings, the part that sometimes wonders if it could be true, sees these bits of proof, and our hope that maybe we actually are loved is validated.

Maybe validation isn’t a whispered word that we aren’t allowed to crave. Maybe it’s the light that catches on all our fractured edges, reminding us to shine. Maybe it’s everything.