On being seen
( I will try to keep this short, because I have several pending deadlines I must work towards. Might rework it later)
At Davis, near the Memorial Union, there's this man with a hat who spends his week talking out loud to no one in particular. His daily tirade consists of several topics: from the role of education, to the duty of youth, to some more controversial topics. Most people seem to ignore him and walk past without making eye contact. It's as if he doesn't exist in their eyes. I'm no psychiatrist1, but at times I've questioned whether this person is fully mentally stable.
This man also has an adorable dog always with him. It is endlessly faithful to him, not once ever getting distracted and running off somewhere. It always has its complete attention on its owner, although I dont think it fully understands his actions, it accepts them regardless. It might be the only living being that gives him the attention he seems to so desperately want.
It made me think if that's what all of us want. Someone who makes us feel seen. Even if everyone else thinks there's something intrinsically wrong with us, to still look in our eyes and reassure us that they're there, no matter what. I think this is what a relationship is built on — a mutual agreement, to always see, and accept the person on the other side, no matter what.
I wonder if studying psychology, instead of numbers, would have empowered me to make more confident assertions about others' mental state.↩