An essay on self-protection, psychological weight, and the quiet cost of being unseen.

the fear of being perceived

We say we want to be seen. But we dread the moment they actually look.

An essay on self-protection, psychological weight, and the quiet cost of being unseen.

From a young age, many women are taught to curate how they show up. They should be agreeable, not too loud, too ambitious, or too much. We’ve learnt that the worlds we move in reward the polished outcomes and results, and prefer not to see the often messy side of the process. And so, we learn to polish. And to only be ok with presenting polished work, or a polished self.

However, something happens when you spend your whole life being strategic about how you show up. You begin to fear that if people really saw you — in motion, in progress, in a mess — they wouldn’t just misunderstand you. They’d diminish you. Judge you. Or worse, reject you.

That’s not just insecurity. That’s a nervous system trying to keep you safe. We don’t fear being seen. We fear being misunderstood. We fear the mislabeling, the misreading, the misrepresentation.

For many of us, especially those who grew up praised for being “the good girl,” the helpful one, the achiever, we learned early that our worth was tied to performance, not presence.

Therefore, we became excellent curators, polishing our voices in meetings, trimming and editing x100 our captions online, and multiply rehearsing our answers before speaking aloud. We did this to ensure we felt safe, by cutting out any chance of mistakes that may make our realness be seen.

Internalised Silencing

Psychologists have a name for this. It’s called protective inhibition — when your nervous system interprets visibility as danger, even when your rational mind knows better. It’s why you freeze before publishing that post, even though you’ve rewritten it ten times, and why you mute yourself on Zoom even when you know you have the answer. This inhibition may also show up in your body, and not just in your mind. For example, you might feel a tightening in your stomach before you speak, maybe that lump in your throat when you try to record that voice note or a sudden fatigue just when you planned to post.

Sometimes you may interpret this as laziness, or procrastination; but it’s not. It’s not even classic imposter syndrome. It’s a trauma-adjacent response, that Dr. Thema Bryant calls “internalised silencing.”

What happens is that our brain remembers that once upon a time, you were punished for being visible, or were criticised, embarrassed, or overlooked, even after giving your best.

Hiding Has a Price

You might think you’re just being careful, but hiding comes at a real cost. If you’re never truly seen, you’re never truly known. That means you may never feel fully loved for who you are, not just for what you show the world. At work, staying hidden can hold you back from growing or leading, because people can’t see your real strengths. Being visible isn’t just about being noticed—it’s about being recognized for what you really bring. Over time, that quiet ache can turn into resentment, self-doubt, and the question that keeps many of us up at night: a resentment, self-doubt… and into the question that keeps so many of us up at night:

“What if I don’t actually matter?”

The Long Road to Feeling Safe

The only way out is through, and here’s what that might look like:

• Speaking even when you’re not polished.
• Showing your process, not just your outcomes.
• Posting before you’ve figured it all out.
• Letting yourself be witnessed, not for being impressive, but for being human.
• At work, try asking questions in meetings or sharing ideas, even if they’re not perfect. This helps you build confidence in your own thinking. You can also volunteer for new tasks to show you’re willing to learn. Listening to your coworkers and recognizing their efforts can help you connect and build a stronger sense of community.

That’s the hardest part, to let yourself be seen in motion, and when not perfect.

There are ways to start working through this. You might try speaking up in safe, supportive spaces. Remind yourself that it’s okay to be seen as imperfect. Finding a group of people who share your experiences can also help you feel understood and empowered.

Because that’s where your truest self lives. And she’s worth meeting.

If you’re here — if you’ve been hiding, hesitating, hovering on the edge of your own life — I want you to know that you’re not broken, and you’re not lazy. You’re building a new association with visibility, one that feels safe, embodied, and self-led.

Ask for support as you go. Find mentors who understand what you’re going through and can help. Joining groups with people who share your experiences can help you feel less alone. If you need to, talking to a therapist can help you work through deeper fears.

You’re teaching your nervous system that it’s okay to be seen, that not everyone will judge. Some will understand. The most important one — you — is already starting to. And that’s the only permission you ever needed.

And if you’re feeling ready, join my Visibility Shift Masterclass, which I created to help more women build visibility confidence in the spaces and places that matter to them.