The Invisible Me!
Does "being" automatically mean that you are recognized?
In a philosophical sense, being means a thing's material or immaterial existence. Anything that exists is a being. Ken Wilber said, "Only formless awareness, [the simple feeling of being] exists absolutely." Recognition, on the other hand, has at least two definitions. Here they are:
— identify (someone or something) from having encountered them before; know again. e.g., I recognized her even without make-up.
— acknowledge the existence, validity, or legality. As "The US recognized this defense.
Denying one's existence feels terrible. It dramatically influences how one thinks about oneself.
Acknowledging a child's sense of being can be the last thing on the minds of exhausted parents. At the end of a long workday, they only want to sit and watch the news, not protect their child's sense of existence.
So, when their child seeks attention, it can be too much effort to recognize this child and validate his being. It encourages the child to look elsewhere for this validation. Children may seek recognition to feel that they exist in dangerous situations.
I remember a dream as a teenager: I was alone in a hallway, listening to conversation, laughter, and music on the other side of a closed door. I turned the doorknob to enter, but the door remained locked. Then I knocked, but no one heard, and then I pounded on the door and kicked it, to no avail. The door remained closed to me. It was a nightmare.
My being during my young life was passed over by my mother, even though I existed. I felt ignored, but more than that, I was taught that I didn't matter. As long as I acted in conformity with the rules set by my mother, everything went smoothly. My father cherished me, and he always acknowledged me.
I remember standing next to Mom and talking to her when I was very young, maybe five years old. She barely acknowledged my presence and never responded to my questions. I was a very pesty kid. But I felt like I was invisible, living inside a box. I wanted so much to be heard, to be recognized by her.
I've tried for years, in retrospect, to figure out why I was so unhappy at home and so joyous outside. I finally puzzled it out. At home, I was insignificant and, on a deeper level, was a non-being. I was blinded to my existence, and so was everyone else.
I spent every Friday afternoon in high school crying in the Girl's room. The thought of spending the weekend at home made me miserable. I sobbed as I packed my things to return home after summer camp.
I noticed I had one persona with others and another at home with my family. My outside persona was joyous and attentive, warmed by the responses I received. At home, I was methodical, cared for everyone, acted as the peacekeeper, and did my homework. That was about it. Even though I had piano and dance lessons, they weren't enough to overcome my inconsequential feelings.
Outsiders recognized that I was a being, having an absolute existence, but there was no recognition at home. Realizing this difference was a vital discovery for me. I'm grateful I was able to identify it.