Nobody knows you - by Peculiarpen

People know your name. They know what you study. They know where you live. They know the kind of music you listen to. They know the jokes that make you laugh. They know the version of you that you allow them to see. But do they really know you? Do they know what you think about when everyone has gone home? Do they know the things you worry about but never say out loud? Do they know how many times you've said “I'm fine” when you weren't? Do they know the dreams you've quietly abandoned because they seemed impossible? Do they know the things you forgive but never forget? Probably not. And maybe that's not entirely their fault. Because sometimes, we spend so much time trying to be understood that we forget to actually let people see us. We say what is expected. We laugh when we're supposed to laugh. We say we're okay because explaining that we're not feels exhausting. We become different versions of ourselves depending on who is standing in front of us. The funny one. The strong one. The responsible one. The person who always has it together. And after a while, people start believing that version is all there is. Then one day, you realize something uncomfortable: You can be surrounded by people and still feel completely unknown. Not because nobody cares. But because nobody can know what you never show them. Maybe that's why some of us crave solitude. Not because we hate people. But because silence is the one place where we don't have to perform. We can finally put the strong version down. We can admit that we're tired. We can acknowledge that something hurt. We can want something without worrying about whether someone else will approve. We can simply exist. Maybe being truly known isn't about having hundreds of people who know your story. Maybe it's having even one person you don't have to edit yourself around. Someone who doesn't just know your name. Someone who notices when your “I'm fine” sounds different. Someone you can sit beside in silence without feeling the need to explain it. But here's the harder question: Do you even know yourself? Because sometimes, we're so busy becoming who everyone else needs us to be that we lose track of who we were before the performance began. Maybe it's time to meet that person again. The one with the dreams. The strange opinions. The unfinished plans. The fears. The softness. The parts you've hidden because they weren't convenient. Maybe people don't know you. But perhaps the more important question is: When was the last time you let yourself know you?

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