Today, I sat in meditation—something I enjoy doing first thing in the morning. I sip my tea and settle into a quiet space next to where I sleep. Sitting in a lotus position, I decided to deepen the experience by wearing a blindfold and earplugs. This practice helps me immerse myself further into the moment.

Throughout my training as a hypnotherapist, reaching a trance or a deep meditative state has been a profoundly enjoyable process. But lately, I have found myself unsure of what to think about or “work on.” As I believe we are all a work in progress, constantly evolving. The healer’s journey is one of utmost importance to me. The concept of the “Wounded Healer” resonates deeply.

The Wounded Healer

The wounded healer refers to someone who has experienced their own pain, struggles, or trauma and, through their healing journey, discovers the capacity to help others heal. Carl Jung introduced this idea, suggesting that a healer is not effective because they are perfect but because they understand suffering firsthand. It is through their own wounds that they develop a deep connection to others’ pain and the ability to guide others on their healing paths.

This understanding of the wounded healer resonated deeply as I returned to my meditation. Sitting quietly with no external sound or light, I turned inward to my own internal world. For me, much of my transformation comes through auditory recognition. I noticed a subtle sadness—not intense, but a slight “down” sensation in my body. I approached it inquisitively, as I do with clients in my sessions. I asked it, “What are you, and why are you here?”

The first challenge of doing this kind of self-inquiry is that it can be confusing to discern who or what is talking. Having done this work for some time, I persisted. I asked the dull, achy sensation in my chest why it was there. It responded simply: “I am here to be seen.” When I asked how it made itself seen, it answered, “By getting angry or mad.” Finally, I asked how long it had been there, and it immediately replied, “A long time—since I was a child.”

This surprised and excited me at the same time. To discover a part of myself that had been unseen felt profound. I asked this part why it used anger to be seen, and it said it didn’t know any other way.

At that moment, I recognized this as a small, wounded part of myself—a part that needed compassion and healing. I approached it gently, careful not to scare it or push too hard. Acting as my wiser, adult self, I began to reparent this part of me. This is where the beauty entered.

I asked this little unseen part, “Who made me feel unseen?” The answer came easily: mom and dad. Being raised in a neglectful home and entering foster care at 11 years old had left many deep wounds of neglect in my childhood. Because I have done so much inner child work, I allowed this part to briefly express what it needed to say. It expressed how sad and angry it was. As I listened, I cried softly in meditation, letting the emotions release seamlessly from my body. I felt the ache in my chest grow stronger as I allowed raw emotions to surface. In that release, I found a deeper sense of peace.

This experience brought forward another realization I often witness in my clients: the gifts that people bring us. Whether it’s a grandparent, an aunt, a nanny, a friend, sibling or even a parent, someone often gifts us moments of a particular feeling – to feel a certain way that we can compound on. I asked myself, “Have I ever felt seen as a child?” My inner child answered: “Yes, one person made me feel very seen.” Immediately, a memory flashed.

At 13 years old, navigating a wild and parentless teenage life, the one person who truly saw me was my older sister. She was just 19 herself already had 2 children and despite her own struggles, she made time for me. She would come to the house where I was staying, and we would sneak out together. I always felt safe with her. She made me feel protected—a gift I now deeply appreciate, knowing how hard it must have been for her to carry the responsibility of a younger sister while she herself lacked someone to look out for her.

We would sneak out and sit on the roof or outside, talking for hours about everything and nothing. Our thoughts, hopes, dreams, and aspirations. I now realize how rare it was to have someone ask me questions without any conditions, expectations, or hidden motives—someone genuinely curious about me. That is the essence of being seen: unconditional love and understanding. My sister gifted me that feeling because she understood—not because she was my sister, but because she had felt that same deep pain of neglect.

This experience has stayed with me. It taught me the power of being seen and the importance of giving that gift to others. For me, the act of being truly seen means being understood. You cannot see something fully without understanding it.

Think of the moon. At a glance, it might seem like nothing more than a shiny ball in the sky. But when you understand its gravitational pull, its phases, and its connection to the water in the human body, you see the moon in a new light. You truly see the moon for what it is – a powerful satellite reflecting the sun, a gravitational sphere that effects and changes the oceans, seas and even our bodies as it is made of 65% water. Likewise, my parents could not see me as a child because they didn’t understand themselves. They didn’t know their own traumas, emotions, or wounds. How could they see me when they couldn’t see themselves?

The Shaman’s Vision

A thought came to me about the shamans of indigenous tribes. When the first ships approached on the horizon, the tribespeople couldn’t see the ships because they had never seen anything like them before. Only the shaman, living between worlds and possessing the gift of vision, could see the ships. By pointing them out and explaining their presence, the shaman helped others see what was previously invisible.

In the same way, people can only see what they understand. If someone does not see your magic, your unique gifts, or your beauty, do not get angry. Instead, focus on understanding yourself. When you see and understand your own light, you will always be seen.