To Be Seen
Written by Alecs Kakon
Photos by Jen Fellegi
What does it mean to let someone truly see you? I think about this often, and in swift moments of judgment, I decide whether I want to bring myself into focus or if I prefer to stay blurred behind a veil. I have yet to decide what it means to let someone “see” me, like see the real me, because I’m still unsure what that would entail. Does it mean baring my soul, all of my deepest secrets? Or, does it mean to stand in my truth, whatever it may be at the moment, and allow for authentic interaction? I’m often conflicted with self-censorship and whether my filter acts as a barrier to protect me from being (mis)understood or if it’s a system I’ve put into place to properly respond to social cues. I can surmise that the privacy I’ve upheld most of my life is most likely a little of both, but mostly, I believe, it’s my reclusive way of remaining partially hidden. Lately, the yearning for someone to truly see me has become palpable, but I’m not always able to uphold my end of the bargain, as I may sometimes still run or hide when things get too real. The fear of betrayal runs deep, I guess. There’s that split second when you’re brain tells your mouth, ‘ok, go, say it,’ but then I stand there, mouth open, wordless. Old habits, old wounds; fear of being pitied or judged, or worse, labelled, seen in a way that doesn’t feel right to me. I’ve taught myself to keep quiet, stay silent, not because I feared the truth, but rather because I never felt safe speaking up. I’ve learned that I fear being belittled, invalidated, appropriated, mocked, being called a liar, or worse, being told to shut up. Feeling safe, I’ve realized, is an indispensable factor in allowing my voice to become audible, because it was never that I didn’t have the words, it was that I didn’t have the safety in knowing that someone wanted to listen. Sitting for a chat with Mackenzie, we talked about coming up in a small town, finding herself amidst the unlikeliest communities, and learning that perception reigned large in knowing how to navigate herself in this big ol’ world.
Growing up in Aurora, Mackenzie’s upbringing had all the shadings of a suburban lifestyle. Although Mackenzie’s parents divorced when she was merely 2 years old, she always felt an abundance of love from both of them. At 8 years old, her mother remarried and with that came a step-father who brought a sense of stability to her life, shaping her way of seeing the world through function, utility and simplicity. “When I was younger, I had to negotiate between my parents to get some of my more basic needs met,” Mackenzie explains. “If I needed boots, I’d go back and forth between them to ensure I’d have what I needed for the winter. But, once my mother remarried, that changed. It’s funny, I’m not sure that is an accurate memory, perhaps I just remember things differently now than they may have been.” What’s for certain is that her step-father brought with him a sense of simplicity and meaningful connections. He valued function over aesthetic, and with that, her modest upbringing was parlayed into a humility that Mackenzie would carry with her throughout her life. “I remember the first year I was packing for camp. We didn’t have luggage,” Mackenzie explains. “We had to pack in garbage bags, but that wasn’t even something I had thought twice about. We didn’t have much, but I was always spoiled with experiences and love.” Whether it was spending the summers at camp followed by road trips in the back of her father’s car across Canada and the US, Mackenzie was want for nothing as she had a great fortune in watching the way her mother and step-father’s love unfolded. “They were on the same beat and being in their orbit and getting to be around such a great love was special,” Mackenzie says. Feeling the safety of comfort and ease around her parents allowed Mackenzie to build an autonomous sense of self in her younger years that would be a grounding force as she grew and went off to experience the world on her own.
When Mackenzie was about 15 years old, she learned of a boarding school nearby that could get her away from the shelter of her small town and bring on new beginnings. “A friend at camp told me that I could go to a school that was like camp all year round,” Mackenzie recalls. “Once I was there, a whole new world opened up to me.” Taking care of herself, living on her own and prioritizing her school work to ensure she would do well, Mackenzie’s independence bode well for her at Lakefield. However, school was more than just academics and sports, as she was exposed to a different style of life than she had ever experienced in her small town. “It didn’t take long for me to learn about brand names and old family money. Wealth was everywhere. Wealth like I had never seen before.” Mackenzie describes. “I didn’t have exposure to city stuff coming from the suburbs. All of a sudden, I just wanted it all. I started requesting UGGS, and all of that sort of stuff.” The material world started to creep up on Mackenzie, but just as quickly as she was whisked away, she was brought back down. “My parents never bought any of it for me. Looking back now, I know they could’ve afforded it, but it just wasn’t who we were.” Spending the next few years traveling, attending Western University, and ultimately graduating from Acadia University in Recreation Management, receiving an MBA from John Molson School of Business, and eventually Barre training that would bring her to her present career, Mackenzie has chosen a life reflective of the values with which she was brought up. Simple, functional, modest, yet affluent with experiences.
Confronted with versions of herself that could’ve been and living in the tension of what currently is, perception has played a vital role in Mackenzie’s development as her growing sense of self-awareness is informed both by what she perceives and what is perceived. Knowing that the discerning judgment of others can create meaning in her character, Mackenzie has curated a public persona that allows her to shield her private self. “I understood that people appreciated certain things about you, things that were on the outside. I learned that perception was a big factor in how well liked you were and how well you did in school and, inevitably, in life.” Navigated this idea of a dichotomous self, a newfound consciousness dilated within: “I choose to wear neutral tones, staying away from colour,” Mackenzie explains. “I have a minimalist aesthetic to match how I feel inside. My personality is friendly, but I don’t like to take up too much space.” Equating colour with boldness and extroversion, even the simplest thing like her wardrobe has become a way of both defining herself as well as curating what others know and see. Mackenzie, like most of us, is in process. Letting past experiences integrate and absorb into the fabric of her being, the symbolism of her life is beginning to emerge. Pulling at threads from her past, she has unravelled what privacy, connecting on deeper levels and staying true to herself all stem from and signify to her.
The paradox of self-observation is that when you finally see your true self in the mirror and you are faced with your reflection, will you recognize what you see? Allowing people to truly see you for who you are begs the fact that you already need to know who that person is. Living in alignment with that reality allows a new layer of self to emerge: the one who can connect most authentically and grow in alignment with your own truth. It’s vital to have people around us who know us, like truly know us. Being your candid self provides catharsis to days of small talk and quick wit. When you find someone you can be unzipped with, you keep them close. “My step-dad and I were so connected and I could be so open with him. He passed away last year and now,” Mackenzie says, “there is one less person in the world who gets me, one less person who truly knows me.” The comfort in knowing that there are people out there who can help create safe spaces for us to be at ease in being our full selves, well, that’s the bright green sweater at the back Mackenzie’s closet.
