Seen is Not Held

Held & Human a continuous conversation on true relational healing.

We’ve all experienced it in some capacity. People notice us. They watch our work. They watch us live or comment on our lives. They hit like. They notice our pictures, and still there is a void of connectivity and intimacy.

About a month and a half ago I stepped away from Instagram. This decision wasn’t made flippantly from a place of void; it was made from a place of deep fulfillment and repeatedly realizing that my work, my life, my creativity, my moments were constantly being visibly digested in a way that no longer held me. About a decade ago, when I first engaged in the platform, much of the world (including myself) was hyper focused on being seen in order to fulfill some sense of significance. The platform was also a space with less noise and more capacity to hold our creativity, our stories, our humanness instead of mechanical expression. As a participant in the trajectory of how social media has encouraged our output and visibility yet left many of us feeling as if we haven’t been held, I have grown into a space of recognizing which digital spaces preserve our innate need for real, human connectivity and expression in a way that feels naturally refreshing. For me, this space is one of them.

I have been held in so many ways this year that a space such as Instagram now lacks depth for me. As I have shifted more out of the business of being solely consumed and more into the business of being communally connected, my heart is set on spaces that provoke reciprocity, deep listening, mutual presence, and nervous system safety. I have spent more time with people, picked up the phone more, shared more vulnerably, allowed myself to be literally and figuratively picked up.

You may have noticed the change in name to this space; it is because I have over the last year walked further into my niche of relational trauma healing as a therapist and personally lived the depths of what it means to be both held and human. This title is not just a phrase; but a movement and an embodiment I am cultivating around the idea that to truly thrive we must allow ourselves to be held — in love, life, business, and all aspects of living.

So, I ask: When is the last time you’ve felt deeply held?

In a way that soothes your system and invites you to unravel yourself out of unmitigated survival.

This year, I have learned that being seen is not the same as being held. The more I began to be held and allow myself to be held by others in real time, the less I have benefited from being seen. Part of the art of learning to be held is recognizing our own relational patterns and histories that have led us to maladaptive beliefs about real connection. It is also about learning to identify healthy relations and allowing yourself to sit inside of support whether it be emotional, psychological, circumstantial, temporal, or eternal. I have been intentionally developing talks, resources, and frameworks around the art of being held because I deeply believe that when we have the capacity to be held, we have the capacity to achieve anything.

Being held and learning to do so, is the foundation for authentic connection, lasting love, and resilient leadership. It is a rebellion to relational trauma and human interactions that have forced us to believe that repair, relational support, or relational need is not detrimental to our thriving.

As I seep into more writing, this space will openly share in the conversation we must have on rewiring relational traumas, learning how to fully identify and receive love, and practicing relational wellness from a place that restores us to our God-created design: humans and souls wired for relationship.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll share essays, reflections, and letters informed by my clinical experience, my own relational experiences, and years of working with women, couples, and leaders who have been struck by relational disruptions. Some pieces will be quiet and intimate. Others clarifying and directive. All of them designed to give you language, insight, and embodied understanding for moving from clenching, clutching, and cradling to being truly held & human.

Thanks for being here. Sending love to you this season.

— Q.