The Importance of Being Seen

By Ace Creed

There’s a difference between being accepted and being seen. I didn’t know that at first. For years, I thought acceptance was the goal. I thought if I could make myself likable, if I could shrink the complicated parts of me down into something more palatable, maybe I’d finally belong somewhere.

I knew how to code-switch. How to clean myself up for Sunday service. How to laugh on cue and keep the softer parts of my voice tucked away. I was accepted in a lot of rooms. But I wasn’t seen in any of them. And that… will starve you slowly.

Because being accepted means you’re allowed to stay—as long as you follow the rules. But being seen? That’s holy. That’s healing. That’s someone looking at the parts of you that don’t fit the mold and saying, "I still choose you.”

I wrote Not Another Sunday because I wanted to tell a love story that was messy, spiritual, deeply Black, and deeply queer. And I wanted it to be honest about what it costs us to hide. Eli and Dywon are both trying to navigate a world where people say “you’re welcome here,” but only if they tone it down, pray it away, or split themselves in half.

A lot of us have learned to settle for being tolerated. We smile through half-truths. We sit through conversations that erase us. We get good at dressing our wounds in humor or hustle or humility. And we tell ourselves it’s enough.

But it’s not. You can be “accepted” by people and still be dying inside. You can have a seat at the table and still be starving for connection.

That’s why being seen matters. Being seen says,

“You don’t have to perform for me.”

“You don’t have to hide your history, your softness, your ache.”

“You can bring the part of you that’s still learning, still healing, still unsure.”

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but let me say it plainly:

• You were never meant to disappear in order to be loved.

• You deserve to be in spaces where your full self is welcome—your laugh, your truth, your questions, your scars, your brilliance, your becoming.

• You don’t have to trade your truth for community.

And if you haven’t found those people yet—the ones who see you?

Keep going. Tell your story anyway. Create the art anyway. Love anyway. Take up space anyway.

Because someone out there is waiting to say, “I see you.”

And when they do—you’ll know.

With love and truth,

Ace Creed