The Things We Pretend Not to See

The bus was nearly empty. A man in a worn-out coat sat near the back, head bowed, eyes fixed on nothing. His hands trembled slightly as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a few crumpled bills. His lips moved, counting silently, then stopping. Not enough. Not today.No one looked at him.A woman beside me scrolled through her phone, the glow of the screen reflecting in her blank eyes. A teenager in the front had his music blasting through his headphones, nodding his head slightly to the beat. The driver barely acknowledged the man as he stood up and walked toward the doors, stepping off into the cold.No one looked at him.We never do.

The Things We Pretend Not to See

It happens every day. The mother gripping the hand of a crying child a little too tightly, her face blank but her fingers tense. The old woman sitting alone at the café, stirring her coffee long after it has gone cold. The man at the intersection with a cardboard sign, his gaze meeting ours for just a second before we look away.We pretend not to notice.We pretend not to see the exhaustion in the cashier’s eyes when she forces a smile at the next customer. The hesitation in the waiter’s voice when he says, "Take your time," because he knows it’s already past the end of his shift.We pretend not to see the girl at the back of the classroom, the one who never speaks unless called on. The one who always wears long sleeves, even in the middle of summer. The one who laughs when everyone else does, but never at the right time.We pretend not to see.Because to see is to acknowledge. And to acknowledge is to act.

What Happens When We Stop Looking Away?

I remember a time when I was one of them. A ghost moving through the world, waiting for someone to notice. Someone to ask, "Are you okay?" and mean it.They never did.So I learned the art of disappearing in plain sight. The careful smile, the rehearsed laughter, the quiet assurances that everything was fine. It was easier that way. For me. For them.Until one day, someone saw me.It wasn’t dramatic. No grand gesture, no poetic moment. Just a friend who placed a cup of coffee in front of me and said, "You don’t have to drink it. But I just wanted you to have it."It was small. Insignificant, maybe. But that was the first time I realized that being seen wasn’t always about words. Sometimes, it was about the things people did when they thought no one was paying attention.

See Me. See Them. See Us.

There is a weight in being ignored, in knowing that people can look right through you and move on. But there is also power in being seen.So look. Look at the man on the bus. The mother gripping her child’s hand. The old woman at the café.See them.Because the things we pretend not to see?They don’t disappear just because we turn away.

Author’s Note: If you noticed someone today, really noticed them, tell me about it. And if you didn’t—there’s always tomorrow. - Kevin