Becoming Seen: The Joy and the Weight of Being Visible

Hey, it’s Van. How are you feeling today?

As you might know, I’m on a path to supporting others emotionally and psychologically in their chaos. I cherish those moments when my clients have “aha” realizations after our conversations. Lately, however, one question has kept echoing in my mind: “Am I truly capable of continuing doing this?”

Some days, all it takes is reading a stranger’s story, and I feel something twist inside.
Not because they’re doing anything wrong, but because their pain touches a part of mine that I thought had gone quiet.

There are moments I just want to disappear. Turn off my phone. Ghost the world. Cause I don’t know what I can do next.
But then, a soft voice inside gently says:
“Keep going. This is your calling.”

And so… I keep going.
Slowly. Gently. Honestly.

I’ve been working on a little nonprofit project, something my heart’s been whispering about for a long time, but…

To build it, I’ve had to step out of hiding.
To take off my safe little space and step into the light (and sometimes darkness).
To let myself be seen, in a messy, authentic, vulnerable way.

And honestly? It’s terrifying, as I’m so used to hiding from the public's eyes.

I’m no stranger to the fragility of attention.
One day, people will love you. The next day, they might misunderstand you, just for being different.

So every time I’m about to share something publicly, I remind myself:
Don’t perform. Just offer.
Offer what I have with authenticity. With presence. With no filters and no armor.

For over two years now, I’ve been living like The Hermit (yes, the one from the Tarot).

I stepped away from social media. I distanced myself from many relationships. Not out of apathy, but out of exhaustion. Exhaustion from expectations. From labels. From the pressure to be someone when I didn’t even know who that was anymore.

And… if I’m being completely honest? I also needed to step away from some love stories that felt like beautifully chaotic songs that I no longer had the energy to write.

But in that stillness, I found something precious: Inner Peace.

The kind of peace that feels like home, when you don’t need to become anyone but who you are.
The kind that lets you breathe and quietly whisper to yourself: “You’re safe now.”

In those quiet years, I learned a lot.
Tarot. Coaching. Psychology. Emotional intelligence. How to love myself. How to love others without losing myself. I’m now studying psychology, not because I want to be an expert right away, but because I want to understand myself better… and support others from a place of clarity and care.

Somewhere along the way, my questions shifted when I encountered unwanted situations.

I stopped asking: “Why is this happening to me?”

and started asking, “What is this trying to teach me?” That’s a real transformation.

One night, while journaling like I always do, the Hermit in me whispered:
✨ “It’s time to serve, love!” ✨

So I started writing publicly, and showing up.
I began creating a space where others could feel seen and heard, because I know how painful it is to crave that and not find it anywhere.

Lately, people have started noticing. They read my words. They message me. And truthfully? It feels… both beautiful and scary.

Because recognition is sweet, but it can stick to you like glue.
If I’m not careful, I could lose myself chasing applause.

So I come back to this again and again:
Don’t perform. Just offer.

And here is my little offer to the world:

🌊 The Ripple Project 🌊

This project is my heart. It’s not loud or flashy. But it’s real. Because:

I’ve fallen into the state of desperation more times than I can count. I had hated myself, felt torn apart by someone’s words, and didn’t figure out what to do next. I didn’t have a place to count on, a safe space to cry, and be accepted.

But I was also saved by someone else’s words, by their kindness.

So, this project was born from a quiet belief I hold close:

The world is not perfect, but it’s not that bad.

I believe in the power of kindness (you might laugh, and that’s okay), and the superpower of right speech—knowing what to say and when to say it. At the right time, a single word can change someone’s life (also the presence in silence). And because of that, they can carry that kindness forward, creating the ripple effect. That’s my purpose.

You can check it out by clicking The Ripple Project at the top left of this website. It’s there, waiting like an introvert at a party, hoping someone kind will say hi.

Thank you for reading all the way here.
Whether you stay or pass by, I’m truly grateful you’ve spent this moment with a little corner of my heart.