Wanted Is Not the Same as Seen
I’ve been thinking a lot about what it actually means to be desired.
At first, it sounds like a compliment.
Everyone wants to feel wanted.
To feel beautiful.
To have someone look at them and think,
“Wow.”
But the more I date, the more I realize that being desired and being truly seen are not the same thing.
A man can desire your body…
without ever becoming curious about your heart.
He can compliment your appearance.
Notice your smile.
Tell you you’re beautiful.
Reach for your hand.
Even reach for your body.
And still never really ask,
“Who are you?”
I’ve started to notice something.
Desire is often in a hurry.
It wants to take.
It wants to know what it can have.
It asks,
“When can I kiss you?”
“Can I touch you?”
“How soon can this become physical?”
But genuine intention moves differently.
It isn’t just captivated by what it sees.
It’s fascinated by who you are.
It wants to know what made you into the woman sitting across the table.
It asks about your childhood.
Your family.
Your dreams.
Your faith.
The places that shaped you.
The things that broke your heart.
The prayers you still whisper before going to sleep.
It wants to know what makes you laugh.
What makes you cry.
What you hope your future will look like.
It doesn’t only admire your beauty.
It becomes curious about your story.
I think that’s the kind of love I’m waiting for.
Not someone who only notices my body.
But someone who notices the way my eyes light up when I talk about traveling.
Someone who remembers that I love jazz.
Someone who smiles when I start talking about all the places I still dream of seeing.
Someone who asks why my faith matters so much to me.
Someone who wants to understand the woman I’ve become, not just admire the woman he sees.
I’ve realized something else.
Real love doesn’t make you wonder where you stand.
It doesn’t leave you trying to decode mixed signals.
It doesn’t make you question whether you’re simply being admired for what you look like.
A man with genuine intentions protects what he hopes to build.
He doesn’t rush intimacy.
He builds trust.
He creates safety.
He shows, through consistency more than words,
“I want to know you before I ask for more of you.”
And maybe that’s what I’ve been longing for all along.
Not to be the most beautiful woman in the room.
Not to be the woman everyone notices.
Just to be the woman one man truly sees.
The woman whose heart matters just as much as her smile.
Whose dreams matter just as much as her appearance.
Whose faith, fears, laughter, quietness, imperfections, and story are never treated as the part he has to get through before reaching her body.
Because one day, my appearance will change.
Life will change.
We’ll both change.
But I hope that one day someone will look at me…
really look at me…
and still choose me.
Not because I never changed.
But because he fell in love with every chapter that shaped me.
Not just the woman he first saw
but the woman he came to know.
Maybe that’s what I’ve been searching for all along.
Not to be desired.
But to be deeply, intentionally, and wholeheartedly seen.