It feels strange to want to be seen but also want to hide. I often find myself stuck in that space, wanting to connect but also needing a break. Social media makes this feeling even stronger. It pulls me toward people, but it also makes me wonder why I am there in the first place.

As I tried to make sense of this tension, I found several studies about social comparison, fear of missing out (FOMO), and social media. One study from the lockdown period looked at how comparing ourselves to others on Instagram affects our emotional well-being. Reading the results, I realized I was searching for more than just facts. I wanted to see if I could find myself in their descriptions. What struck me most was how social media shapes our sense of belonging. The research explained that seeing other people’s lives all the time can slowly lead us to compare ourselves, especially with those who seem happier, more successful, or more fulfilled.

Thinking about this, I noticed how easily it can happen without us realizing. When I see someone else’s milestones, relationships, experiences, or confidence, I start to compare myself almost automatically. It is not always because I am jealous, but because I want to understand where I fit in with everyone else.
Then I feel a quiet need to change how I present myself, hoping to stay connected, included, and visible enough to feel like I belong. The research also talked about FOMO, or the fear of missing out. As I thought about it, I realized it is not always about wanting what others have. Sometimes it is just the fear of being left out, the sense that something important is happening somewhere else while I am not part of it.

This idea stuck with me because it explained a feeling I have had for years. I can want connection but still feel uncomfortable with attention. I can like being seen and still want to step back from the spotlight.
I also remember how social media felt when I was younger, especially in high school. Back then, it was not so focused on comparison. It felt more about relationships. People shared parts of their lives to stay in touch. Strangers became friends through conversations and shared interests, and family who lived far away felt closer.
Of course, there was still some comparison, but it did not feel as constant or overwhelming as it does now. Back then, things felt lighter, less about keeping up an image and more about being part of a community.
Maybe that is why I am still drawn to online spaces, even though they can be tense. Part of me remembers the connection that came before everything became about performance and being seen.

Desire to Belong

As I kept thinking about this, I remembered Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Maslow says that after our basic needs for safety and survival are met, we begin seeking love, belonging, and connection.
This helped me see something important about myself. For me, wanting to be known is not a weakness but a part of being human. I can see this desire in many parts of my life—wanting to be understood, wanting to feel recognized without having to explain myself, and wanting to feel connected to something outside my own thoughts.

This desire to belong does not only appear in friendships, communities, or online spaces. I can see it in my marriage and family life as well. Even within relationships built on love and commitment, there is still a longing to be understood and known more deeply. Perhaps that is why belonging is never something we fully outgrow. It continues to follow us through every stage of life because it is woven into how we were created.
In many ways, social media reflects that desire. It is like a digital gathering place where even small interactions can help me feel seen, noticed, and included. But I have also noticed that being visible can quickly feel overwhelming.

When I feel too exposed, I instinctively pull back. This is not about rejecting people. It is more about protecting something private inside me. I am learning not to judge myself for this tension. I can want connection and still need boundaries about how much I am seen.
When I bring these feelings to God, they start to make more sense. In Genesis 2:18, God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” That reminds me that my longing for connection is not something misplaced but something that reflects part of God’s design. I also think about the way Jesus lived. He moved through life in relationship with others, sharing meals, walking alongside people, and speaking with honesty and presence. As I continue to know Him through Scripture, nothing about His relationships feels performative.
Before the fall, there was no fear of being seen. There was no shame attached to visibility and no instinct to hide. But after sin entered, humanity withdrew. Adam and Eve hid themselves, and ever since then, there seems to be this tension between wanting to be known and wanting to protect ourselves from exposure. I recognize that tension in myself, too.

Balancing the Conflicted Desire

There is a part of me that wants to be seen and understood, and another part that instinctively steps back when attention feels too close. Yet even in the garden, God still asked, “Where are you?” Not because He did not know, but because He was inviting them out of hiding. That encourages me to think differently. It reminds me that being seen by God is different from being exposed before people. With Him, there is no pressure to perform or maintain an image. I am already fully known. That could be why my blog feels different to me. It is one of the few places online where I do not feel the need to perform. I am not trying to compete for attention, or even prove that my life matters. I share moments because I want to remember them, not because I need them validated. Also, there is no pressure to keep up with anyone else here. I am simply sitting with my own thoughts, my own experiences, and often my own conversations with God. When I write, I feel calmer, more settled, and less anxious about being seen.

And maybe what I have always wanted was not attention, but safe connection. Which in the end, I keep returning to one truth: I do not need to be fully known by everyone. It is enough that I am known by God. When I remember that, the pressure to be visible begins to quiet. I can simply be.