Experience Makers, I’m so glad you’re here, though I know you didn’t come to this space lightly. I know you’ve been carrying something heavy, something quiet. You’re probably exhausted, emotionally drained, maybe even numb from how long this feeling has been sitting with you. The feeling of being unseen. Unheard. Alone.
If you’re listening to this right now, I want you to know I’m speaking directly to you. The woman who’s feeling like she’s giving everything—emotionally, physically, mentally—without getting anything back. The woman who’s holding the weight of everything but feels like she’s fading into the background. The one who’s tried to share her feelings and frustrations, only to be met with silence, or worse, indifference.
I want to sit with you in that space for a moment. Let’s take some time to just be with those feelings, without rushing to solve anything. No action steps, no “fixing.” Just space for you to be heard. Just space for you to be seen.
You’ve probably been there for a while now, haven’t you? Feeling like you’re pouring your energy into this relationship, this partnership, but somehow, no one sees the quiet sacrifices you’re making. No one acknowledges the little things you do every day. Or maybe, it’s not even the little things—it’s the big, emotional pieces of you that are getting buried under the weight of everyone else’s needs.
You’re holding it all. The responsibility. The mental load. The endless planning. The juggling. But when you try to share how it’s affecting you—how tired you are, how drained you feel—it’s like your words just fall into an empty room. It’s like no one’s listening, or worse, no one cares enough to listen.
It’s frustrating. It’s heartbreaking, actually. Because when you’re with someone you love, someone you’ve chosen, you expect them to see you. To hear you. To notice when you’re struggling. And when that doesn’t happen, it’s easy to start feeling… invisible. Like no matter what you do, no matter how much you give, you’re still just floating in the background, never truly seen for who you are.
And maybe, after all the times you’ve tried to talk about it—tried to ask for help, tried to express how overwhelmed you feel—you’ve started to believe that it’s just the way it is. Maybe you’ve told yourself it’s your job to keep everything together. That your emotions should come last. That your needs can wait.
But, love, that’s not true.
You are so much more than the quiet strength you keep putting on for the world. Your feelings are valid. You deserve to be seen and heard. And even if it feels like no one else notices, I want you to know that I see you.
Let’s talk about that feeling of being unheard. That deep ache that comes when you’ve said something over and over again, and yet, it’s like it hasn’t landed. Have you ever tried to have a conversation with your partner, pouring your heart out, and yet it feels like you’re speaking a different language? Like the words you’re using don’t quite reach them? They hear you, but they don’t really hear you. They don’t feel your hurt. They don’t see the depth of your exhaustion.
And maybe they try to comfort you, but it feels like a pat on the back—hollow. It doesn’t touch the rawness inside you. They might offer solutions that don’t actually fix anything, or they brush past your feelings with phrases like, “You’re overthinking it,” or “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” But it’s not fine. And you know that deep down. It’s been building up for so long, and you can’t keep pretending that it’s okay when it’s not.
I want you to stop and sit with that for a moment. To feel that frustration, that ache. The emptiness that comes when you give so much of yourself and yet feel like you’re still invisible.
And the loneliness that comes with this? It’s the worst part, isn’t it? You’re in a relationship, yet it feels like you’re walking through life side by side with someone who doesn’t really see you. They don’t see the weight you’re carrying. They don’t feel the constant pressure of being the one who holds everything together—emotionally, mentally, physically. You’re walking alone in a crowd, and the only thing that’s there with you is that silence. That space between you.
Have you ever felt like you’re shouting into the void, and the longer you shout, the more your voice cracks, until you stop shouting altogether? Maybe you’ve gotten to the point where you just hold it in, because no one seems to hear anyway. Maybe you think, What’s the point of saying anything?
But here’s the thing, love: just because your partner might not notice—or might not understand—doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to be noticed. It doesn’t mean that you don’t matter. You matter. Even in your quiet, even in your exhaustion, you matter.
And the hardest part is that you start to feel like maybe you’ve been asking for too much. Maybe you’re just being dramatic, maybe your partner is just too busy, maybe your needs are just… too much. But you’re not being dramatic. You’re not asking for too much. You’re asking for the very basic things that every human deserves—to feel heard, to feel seen, to feel valued.
I think what makes it hurt even more is that you want to share these feelings with your partner. You want to open up. You want to be vulnerable. But each time you try, you feel like it’s either falling on deaf ears or you’re met with defensiveness. Maybe they don’t even realize that their response is hurting you. Maybe they’re too caught up in their own world to really tune in to yours.
And so you pull back. You retreat into yourself, even though every part of you is begging for someone to understand. But somehow, you end up taking care of everyone else’s emotions and needs, while yours get buried deeper and deeper.
I hear you. I hear the loneliness in that silence. I hear the frustration of not being seen. And I want to say this: just because no one else is noticing doesn’t mean you’re invisible. Your heart is so full, and your love is so deep, but it’s okay to admit that you’re tired. You’re tired of giving without receiving. You’re tired of putting others before yourself.
I want to say something very important to you right now: You are not the sum of all the things you do for others. You are not just the roles you play—wife, mother, partner, friend. You are a person. A whole, complex, beautiful person who deserves to feel seen and heard, just as much as anyone else.
You don’t need to shrink yourself to fit into the role that others have for you. You don’t need to swallow your feelings, tamp them down, or pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. You deserve to be validated, to be understood, to be loved for who you are, not just for what you do.
And I know, love, that right now it probably feels like no one gets it. Maybe even the people closest to you don’t fully grasp the toll this has taken on you. Maybe, in the quiet moments, you wonder if you’ll ever be seen for everything you are—not just in the roles you play, but for the beautiful, complicated, messy human you are underneath it all.
But I want you to know something, from the depths of my heart: you are enough. Even in those moments when you feel like you’re fading away. Even when you feel like you’re giving, and giving, and no one’s noticing. You are enough.
And maybe right now, it feels like you’re carrying everything on your own. Maybe you feel like you’re the only one who sees the cracks in the foundation, the only one who’s holding it all up. But I want you to know, you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. Your feelings, your needs, your desires—they matter. And you deserve to be held, just like you’ve been holding everything else.
I see you. Even when you don’t feel seen. I hear you. Even when you feel unheard. Your heart matters. Your soul matters. You are so, so loved, even in your quietest moments.
I want you to carry that with you, love. That no matter how unseen you might feel right now, you are not invisible. You are enough. You are worthy of love, of care, and of being heard.
And in this moment, right here, you are seen.
Thank you for being here with me. I’m holding space for you, always. Take care of yourself, and remember—you are never truly alone. Not in this. Not in your feelings. Not in your heart. You are loved. Always.
