Think about that time in your life when someone SAW you – really looked at you and saw you: the good, the bad, the light, the dark, the joy, the sorrow, the struggles….

It’s so validating, to be seen.

I wrote, not long ago, about how I could not have possibly dreamed of the motherhood I live on a daily basis, because I didn’t see that kind of motherhood around me. When I was growing up, I think it was more hidden and less talked about, though a large part of it could certainly be that I simply wasn’t looking.

I try to not give people that option – to not look. And it’s exhausting.

When some people talk about inclusion, disabled people seem to be the group that still doesn’t make the list. I’ve listened for it in sermons and political speeches, when people rattle off who our neighbor is we should be loving or how we need to bridge the divide in our country.

More times than I can count, no one says anything about the person who is different neurologically or in physical ability. No one mentions disabled people. It is a group that is still largely fighting to be seen.

And I’m not a part of that group, but I live in close proximity to someone who is. And at this stage in his life, I act as his voice.

His life matters. His health matters. His education matters. His relationships matter.

He matters.

And he will be seen.