The Power of The Gaze
Ours is a pick-me culture.
We strive to be chosen—at every turn, in every space.
Pick-me for your team. Your school. Your job. Your love.
Hell, pick-me for your situationship.
We grow up believing selection is a measure of worth. And when we’re not picked? The questions creep in.
Were we not enough?
Picked too late? Not at all?
Bink, bink, bink.
Each moment a crack in our sense of self.
So, we push harder. We work to be pickable.
Not just prepared—overprepared.
We show up polished, early, with bells, whistles, and backup plans.
We aim to be indispensable. First-round draft pick.
Now, this isn’t a takedown of discipline.
Discipline is beautiful. It builds nuance, mastery, confidence.
But the real question is:
Who are we performing all this discipline for?
Is it in service of our unique contribution, or are we chasing approval?
Because when we shape ourselves to appeal to the gaze, we twist, bend, and contort—unrecognizable to self.
All for the gaze.
You know the gaze.
That first glance—approving? Dismissive?
The heartbeat quickens. Palms sweat. The stomach flips.
The power of the gaze spirals the system.
The gaze holds the key. It opens doors.
Especially for othered folks, the right gaze can mean access.
So yes, there's an upside. A rush.
Winner, winner.
But in becoming the most pickable,
We sand off our edges. Shrink ourselves.
We perform.
Just right. Never too much.
We trade authenticity for acceptability.
And pick-me culture? It pays well.
We get the job. The fund. The press. The partner.
But at what cost?
It requires the mask. The code-switch.
The biting—and swallowing—of the tongue.
The prioritizing of comfort that’s not our own.
Emotional labor with no return.
How might we find liberation in this lifetime such that the gaze holds no power, no consequence, no opportunity?
So, what would it mean to live in a world where the gaze holds no power?
Where we no longer contort ourselves to be seen, but instead stand fully as we are?
On the other side of that question is freedom.
A louder, brighter existence.
A life chosen not for its appeal, but its truth.
And when we do that—when we choose ourselves—the universe answers.
With aligned people. Unexpected paths.
Abundance that’s rooted, not performative.
It’s not always easy.
Liberation comes with loss, of false comforts and broken systems.
But the return?
To be seen fully, and without condition, the most beautiful thing.
It’s the real reward. The deepest love.
Today’s contemplation: What might your life look like beyond the gaze?
