The Body Knows When You’re Being Mis-Seen

When an Old Story Gets Triggered

After work a few weeks ago, I sat down for ten minutes of vergence spot work—a Brainspotting exercise where you move your eyes along the Z-axis, shifting focus from near to far. It’s one of the ways I settle my nervous system when I can feel something niggling at me. Brainspotting, at its core, lets the body speak what language has protected or hidden.

That night, someone from high school reached out unexpectedly. Her message pressed on something in me that felt uncomfortable. I couldn’t name why, so I sat down with my usual practice, expecting nothing more than a little regulation. Instead, I started to cry.

When Tears Reveal What the Mind Can’t Name

The tears weren’t random. They were old. Familiar. They carried the ache of a younger version of me—the girl who chased people, softened herself, over-gave, and over-accommodated, hoping someone would finally see her clearly and decide she wasn’t bad. In that moment, I realized this highschool acquaintance was projecting something onto me and wanted something from me that was unnamed and I didn’t feel comfortable giving it. 

Growing Up Mis-Seen

The words “bad” and “guilty” haunted me for years. They shaped me into someone who felt inherently unworthy, inherently suspect. As if every kind act required explanation, every moment of clarity or assertiveness meant I was dangerous, every boundary needed justification, and every part of me had to be softened so I didn’t look threatening.

That narrative started early, with my stepmom. Once she decided who I was, everything I did was filtered through that story. And that pattern followed me into adulthood: people who didn’t know me well or didn’t have the nuance or emotional capacity to see me clearly, projected onto me with startling confidence. Their certainty was so big that I would start doubting my own perception. I’d believe I couldn’t see myself accurately and needed to trust them instead.

The Moment of Clarity

The clarity that surfaced in the middle of the tears was simple and painful: when someone has already decided you’re “bad,” they will misinterpret everything you do. Kindness looks manipulative. Boundaries look selfish. Assertiveness looks dangerous. No amount of proving, performing, or pleasing changes their story—it only erases you a little more.

Stepping Out of Their Lens

What emerged during the Brainspotting session was not just grief, but a shift: I don’t have to live under someone else’s distorted perception of me. For decades, I tried to get people to see me accurately. I tried to correct the story, soften myself, shrink myself, or over-explain—hoping to be understood. But the truth is brutally simple: you cannot convince someone to see you clearly if they are committed to a version of you that protects their story or their identity, not yours. And trying to change their mind costs you the relationship that matters most: the one with yourself.

Reclaiming Your Own Perception

A deeper truth followed. My goodness doesn’t need their permission. My integrity doesn’t need their validation. My clarity doesn’t depend on their lens. Even writing these words brings fear—fear of being misunderstood, fear of sounding arrogant, fear of being mis-seen again. But reclaiming yourself is not arrogance. It’s accuracy. It’s the quiet decision to trust your own perception over someone else’s projection.

Healing as a Spiral, Not a Breakthrough

I’ve circled this truth for years—through depression, through therapy, through every moment I’ve realized that healing is a spiral, not a staircase. You return to the same places, but each time with more capacity, more honesty, more willingness to witness yourself. This wasn’t a dramatic “breakthrough” session. It was one of countless self-led moments where my body pulled me back to a truth I wasn’t consciously holding: I don’t need to fix someone’s distorted view of me. I just need to stop standing in front of the funhouse mirror they’re using to interpret me.

On Being Real

My practice is called On Being Real, and the irony isn’t lost on me. Maybe this is what I’ve been learning all along: being real isn’t about convincing people of your goodness. It’s about living from the truth of who you are even when some people can’t or won’t see it. No performing. No shrinking. No trying to win over a worldview that was never mine to begin with.

The Invitation

If you’ve been bending yourself into shapes that hurt—trying to be acceptable to someone whose perception is frozen in an old story—this is your invitation to step out of their lens. Stop exhausting yourself for people who can only see their projection of you. Return to your own clarity, your own goodness, your own inherent worth. And let yourself be seen by the one person whose vision you will live with for a lifetime: your own.

Author’s Note: What Is Vergence Spot Work?

Vergence spot work is a Brainspotting technique that uses near-far eye focus along the Z-axis to support nervous system regulation. By integrating vision, body awareness, and mindfulness, it helps the brain process stored emotion and increases emotional regulation.