Invisibilizing – The Pain of Not Being Seen

~ To be read slowly, connecting head and heart—making space for the pain and the goodness—to see your Self and soul.

Invisibilizing isn’t just something we see in a psychology experiment. Sadly, it’s something many of us experience when someone talks over or under us. But unlike the Still Face Experiment, in real life, there’s often no repair, no turning back toward connection.

Talking over means jumping in with assumptions, not being heard, and drawing conclusions that don’t reflect what was meant, even twisting the truth. Talking under is more subtle—it’s when someone changes the subject or politely nods without truly engaging or remembering what they promised, often not acknowledging their behavior or its impact on the other.

Like many of you, I’ve experienced both. I see it often in my work and life. Sometimes I don’t even notice whether I’m doing it or the other person is. And in trying to smooth it over, I can unknowingly add salt to the wound, making it even more painful for both of us.

With myself, it often stems from a need for recognition or approval—something I internalized early on, when I didn’t feel seen for who I am (that I was different), only what the other person wanted me to be, or to see about them.

Like the infant in the photo, the pain starts to come from within—a pain I’ve learned to hide, so I could survive not being seen.

It can also arise from being seen too much, leading us to pull back—even from positive attention—for fear of being hurt again. When our protest is met with a still face, we can tend to develop our own or put on a smile to hide the painful truth.

That’s our aloneness. It has nothing to do with how many people are in the room or the ways we differ. It’s the pain of not being seen, which can cut deeper when we’re already misunderstood—before a word is even spoken.

As a therapist or consultant, I think this disconnect—the one between the head and the heart—is where the healing needs to happen. It's a connection we learn early on that can be hard to break, and is likely to come up again, unless we persist and don't give up.

I see this as a sign of our loving kindness and an act of compassion when we don't avoid it, even though the other person may not perceive it that way. Sometimes, trying to overplease could be a dismissal of the pain of not being seen—ours, and theirs.

Helping someone rewire that connection—to feel seen and connected inside—may be the most important work we do.

Often, healing happens in the experience of a correction—the moment neither of us had much of but both of us needed, and still do. Whatever we do, it needs to be felt, not just understood. That’s when the heart gets involved.

I often use the metaphor of light to help make the work experiential and get it to stick. I imagine holding the light—first feeling the courage of connecting to the child inside myself, so that my patient can begin to feel it too, as I mirror my belief in them. Then, they can hold their own light for the wounded child inside, guiding them back home, instead of continuing to hide and staying lost in the past.

That’s how we begin to know that we’re no longer invisible. The light inside can’t be taken away. It’s always there. We’re no longer talking over or under. Now, we’re truly talking–first to ourselves and then with each other.

Take a moment—imagine and feel in your body what you know to be true in your heart and mind.

In this work, we're standing together as therapists, patients, and a community—a light much bigger than one. It's a place where the light surrounds us, and we remember: we are not alone anymore, no longer living in the past trauma. The little ones are at home and live in our hearts.

This isn’t mansplaining. It’s not ghosting. It’s quieter—but just as wounding. It’s invisibilizing. And while it hurts, naming it gives us a chance to look at the pain inside and transform it.

That, in itself, is something to celebrate—our capacity to change, to heal, and to make space for more—not just in our own lives, but in connection with others. It’s the beginning of something new: a light within us, awakened in the space between us, helping us remember who we were meant to be, and reconnecting us to each other.

This is how we begin to trust the light—not as something we have to earn or protect, but as something we already carry, and can share. We begin to see ourselves and each other, not as problems or disorders to be fixed, but as human beings meant to be seen.

In the stillness of the moment, notice where you are landing now. Feel the light of invisibility, and know that you are not alone—bringing this sacred work to life.

Comments or questions? Email me at mcecilvt@aol.com. Feel free to share these words—and this blog—with anyone you hold, or long to be held by, in the light of invisibility.

Dr. Cecil is a licensed psychologist, certified AEDP supervisor, approved EMDR consultant, and senior CSRT consultant. He specializes in treating complex relational, developmental, and transgenerational trauma, bringing therapy to life through heartfelt stories and images of connection and healing that emerge from the light of invisibility.