Feeling Invisible and the Need to be Noticed
Eleanor Roosevelt’s quote is one of my all-time favorites:
“You wouldn’t worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do.”
I love this quote because it really speaks to me. It serves as a check on feelings of rejection which I get when people do not readily respond to an email/text. Their silence may actually have nothing to do with me. People are busy with their own lives: families, work, plans, health, travel whatever. I am not at the forefront of their thoughts. Basically, as shocking as it may be, I am not as important to them as I am to me!
Okay, fine, I get it, it makes sense, I understand BUT… I get tired of understanding. I get really annoyed—actually, I feel pissed off! Why do I have to be the one reaching out, understanding, inquiring, supporting the ups and downs in their lives? What about me? What about how I feel? What about supporting my efforts?
It’s complicated.
So, let me start with the simple basic truth that we all want to be noticed, recognized, valued, heard. It’s instinct for our survival really. Babies cry—notice me, I am hungry, cold. Babies need not only the physical caring but also the human touch of voice and hands. Babies in orphanages develop what’s called “failure to thrive” if they do not have human contact; they need to be noticed.
This need is pervasive and even crops up in the smallest ways every day. For example, remember sitting in an elementary school classroom where there is a kid who always has her hand up frantically waving it to answer the teacher’s question? But, the teacher does not call on her. Instead, she calls on a student who rarely participates there by noticing him and giving him a chance to be heard. This is wonderful for him, yet the eager student goes away from the encounter feeling unnoticed and maybe even slightly hurt.
Now, assuming that you agree that we all want, have a need to be noticed, valued, and heard, I want to jump to my struggles of the elderly and more specifically the widowed.
First, let me explain what I did have when I was elderly but still had a husband. Whether or not my husband’s response to a verbal utterance from me was always wonderful—meaning he actually understood what I was saying—he did respond. I was noticed. These needs were met daily in our exchanges about activities, life, friends, kids/family, plans, etc. And, if I were not home as usual, he clearly showed that he valued my presence: “Where are you? When will you be home?” Sure, maybe so that he would get dinner but…
Once I became a widow that interaction which I took for granted, disappeared. He was gone. I was on my own. There was no longer anyone with whom I could consistently review my day, thoughts, encounters, feelings. I was left to figure out how to fill this huge gap so that I did not feel isolated—alone with the everyday experiences of life.
Knowing I need to be validated, I thought about to whom I could go to fill this gap. I have good friends—women and men—from diverse parts of my life that could and can fill in different aspects of that gap. My adult children are another big source. They know me not only in the role of mother but also (sometimes) see me as an older adult.
Here is my quandary: How much can I ask of my friends and particularly my children. How much time and emotional energy can I ask them to spend on the events and concerns in my life? They have their own lives. They are busy. Yes, they love me but for the most part, I am not the center of their worlds. (This is when Eleanor Roosevelt’s wisdom rings in my ears.)
I know when I was in my forties, I did not want my parents deeply involved in my daily life. I did not want their advice or opinions about my choices. (Yes, many of you reading this might well have a different reaction and be one of the many who say your mother is your best friend and you talk with her daily; wonderful.) So I am guessing when you become a widow in your elderly years, your mother (if she is still alive) may well fill the role your husband once did. For the rest of us that role remains empty.
I have heard many elderly, whether widows or not, bemoan the lack of involvement or support their kids demonstrate. They feel that their kids could? should? respond and help them more than they are currently doing. They need to be noticed, valued. Consequently, they feel hurt and hurt feelings may come out in anger. This becomes a problem.
They MAY understand Eleanor Roosevelt’s words of wisdom, but they just cannot fully accept them. Their need to feel noticed, valued has grown bigger since the death of their spouse. Where/how can they get these needs met? They are on their own. They must be resourceful. Further complicating the situation is that if they do not feel valued and noticed, they do not feel good about themselves thus have little? no? energy to reach out and take care of others or generally engage in life.
It’s hard. It’s a fact. What is the solution? Narrow expectations? Respect the lives of others? Make demands? Keep trucking.
Your thoughts?
Hi Deborah! Wow! This really hit me and while I’m not a widow I know what it feels like not to be noticed or validated and how hard it is. You’re so right… we all need to feel like our friends and family care about us but sometimes it’s hard to know what that means to them and to us. And I totally agree, it’s hard to know when leaning on them is too much. I sure don’t have the answer but I try to put it in perspective (doesn’t always work). I don’t know what’s going on in their life. What I do know is that if I want to have a relationship with a family member or friend, then it’s up to me to decide what that looks like. And sometimes that means being the one to reach out and not expect to have that reciprocated. I don’t know if this makes sense but I do know I can only control what I do and think. Beyond that is a mystery.
I think you are highlighting a very fundamental human need to be seen and acknowledged. Much has been written about how older women feel invisible, and there is a new book out entitled The Mattering Instinct which I haven’t read but I believe deals with exactly this. Not quite “if the tree in the forest falls with no one there to hear it,” but I agree with you that this is more than a wish but an essential need for acknowledgement in order for many to have a sense of value.
And, of course, we want this from the people whom we love the most, our children, especially if we are widowed or divorced. They are our family to whom we deeply want to belong and matter. And, yes, this is coming at a time when they are busy building their career, their families, their social networks, and may not have the bandwidth for us. We are historically their caretakers, not the other way around. And, yes, it can lead to great hurt when this wish goes unmet. I don’t think there is an easy answer but I do think the more we can lean into empathy for the many pressures on them that we will take their “neglect” less personally and be more able to substitute the empathy for that anger with varying degrees of success.
I would love to see you address not only daughters and mothers but for those of us with sons, daughters-in-law and mothers-in-law relationships which, of course, has its own level of complexities.
Your blog is interesting and true. I’m a widow and have step children. This family situation is a step removed from the situation you mentioned. It puts me after their mother, fewer calls and contact. As my friends age they move closer to family and that creates another loss.
Some wise person said that that in a marriage, we have at-the-ready a person who witnesses our lives. When that person disappears, an awful emptiness inevitably takes its place.
You ask, “What is the solution? Narrow expectations? Respect the lives of others? Make demands? Keep trucking?”
I think all the above, except probably that “make demands” one (which certainly will backfire).
I’d like to add “drop hints,” a possibly effective strategy. Or better yet — “Could we have a once-a-week phone call? The truth is I’m lonely now your dad’s gone and I miss you.”
Direct, honest, not pleading. And fair.
What do you think?
In some ways retiring from a job you love is like what you describe. Going back for the office Christmas party can be a rude awakening. After being greeted with a perfunctory ,”Great to see you.”, you realize no one is very interested in the old office war stories or in what retirement life is like. The work and the staff have moved on and you are akin to yesterday’s news. Even those you mentored look over your shoulder to find someone else to engage. Aside from realizing you can’t go home again the answer is to move on yourself, to develop new interests, to befriend people who share those interests while always being available to help family and friends when asked. At the end of Rosenkavlier the Marschallin looks in the mirror and accepts the inevitability of age and change. It’s time to let go of what is now past. It’s poignant, achingly beautiful and very, very wise.
I often say to friends who have local children/grandchildren that it’s almost easier not to have family in town. I do far better when they are distant and I don’t rely on direct interaction – every call and text becomes a surprising treat! When I am in their backyard during the summer I experience much more angst about why I don’t see them more or have hurt feelings if I’m feeling neglected. This summer I’m going to try to be better about gently and kindly asking if we can have a standing lunch or dinner once a week. We all bend over backwards to be progressive and understanding about their busy lives, as we should, but I’m learning it’s ok to ask for a little more, framed in a manner to make them realize just how much we love spending time with them!
Deborah, this article is so relevant to the life of a widow. But it is also relevant to aging mothers (and maybe aging fathers too) even before they lose their spouses.
It’s trick for aging parents to navigate their relationships with adult children. We are expected to change the way we treat and regard our offspring as they mature and change. But can we expect them to treat and regard us differently as we age and change? Many/most of us with adult children feel they would look out for our physical needs if we became sick or feeble, unhoused or broke, but is it so clear they will see our more subtle, emotional needs, like, as you describe, feeling seen, heard, and validated? I’m not talking about a big deal here, or anything too burdensome for their busy lives. Maybe it’s just about showing greater sensitivity. Maybe it’s just about seeing aging parents as complete human beings with needs, needs that can change as their lives change. Maybe it’s just about balancing better the give and take of a human relationship. Maybe it’s just about asking more questions — “How was your week, Mom?” “Gee, I like that color on you.” “You say you like that book — what about it speaks to you?”
I don’t know that there is any easy formula here. I know only that you have raised questions that many of us have as we struggle to do as well as we can by our adult children, but also to look out for ourselves.
Thanks for prompting and provoking this very interesting conversation.
Thanks Deborah for Eleanor Roosevelt’s great quote! I think it is probably even more relevant and true when it pertains to people who are not in your inner family circle. I sure wish I had known of this quote/ perspective when I was young and in the working world and wondering what others thought of me. Speaking of my three daughters, ages 37 (twins) and 43, who are now supportive although I often don’t share my concerns partly with them because they are sharing the problems that come with being parents and career mothers. And I must admit that they don’t ask me much about my life and are just happy to hear that I am fine. As Judi said “We are historically their caretakers, not the other way around” and to a certain degree it’s hard to change places. Our relationships have improved as they have become more mature than they were as younger adults and I am elderly and I think wiser although they often don’t think so! But I do try to understand and empathize with them as they are preoccupied with raising their family and careers, especially in this chaotic world we now live in. But I still need to be heard and I’d like to share more about my days. I know that I need to find a way to speak up so we can have a more balanced conversation. It has been extremely important for me to find purpose and meaning in my life since I retired in 2012. This has pushed me forward, but it hasn’t always been easy. A series of volunteer jobs has helped but finding the right fit is necessary. . Also joining groups of women from my faith community in sharing our stories and a poetry/ meditation group has been meaningful and fulfilling. In addition, I have become very involved with my young grandchildren who live fairly close to me. Babysitting on a regular schedule, but only for short time periods, has enriched my life greatly.
Wow! What wonderful, thoughtful comments. Thank you, thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts.
I have said that one purpose of my blog is to educate myself (and others) about a particular issue or topic. You have certainly done this in your comments by describing the diverse situations in which you have experienced this sense of being an outsider or invisible: returning to the office after retirement; being the widowed stepparent, not the biological mom; being omitted from activities; or just not being a part of the conversation.
In addition, you have offered solutions—or at least, what you could do to lessen the feelings of aloneness. Basically, take control: ask yourself what you want from certain relationships and then go for it; reach out and ask respectfully (not as a needy or disappointed parent) what you would like; offer specific plans for getting together; and, finally, acknowledge that the past is past and look for new experiences that give you a sense of purpose and an opportunity to engage with like-minded others—new friends.
And revisit your reactions to your perceived selfish or neglectful adult children. Try to be more empathetic, perhaps by remembering when you were juggling kids, career, social life, and health; when your emotional “bandwidth” was limited. Maybe that empathy will help you feel less neglected, frustrated, and hurt.
Another purpose for my blog is to help you feel less alone and validated. When others express ideas and emotions similar to our own we feel connected, less alone. “Aha, someone else feels exactly as I do; I am not crazy.” This feeling validates who we are. It’s a nice feeling.
So, I thank all of you for sharing with others in the community. You have given of yourself and given much to others.
I am neither a mother nor a widow but I have many friends who are one or the other or both. It’s an honor to have them reach out to me for help – either emotional or otherwise. Of course sometimes I feel like I can’t do enough because of other obligations, travel, etc. But at least I’d like to know if a good friend needed something – and I’ll do my best to be there.