The Grown-Up Game of Hide and Seek

A soulful reflection for those who know how to disappear behind doing, and who are ready to be seen in their full humanity.

As children, we played hide and seek with squeals and laughter, hearts pounding behind couch cushions or trees, waiting to be found. It was a game of presence and pursuit—of disappearing and then being discovered. But for many of us, the game never really ended.

We learned to hide in different ways. Behind achievement. Behind our smiles. Behind the to-do list, the role, the mask. We buried ourselves beneath what was expected of us—quietly struggling, quietly striving, quietly wondering if anyone saw the fullness of who we really were. And yet, even in all that hiding, there’s always been a seeker inside.

The one who devoured self-help books before knowing what healing truly meant. The one who took every quiz in Seventeen, explored Enneagram types, Human Design, horoscopes, natal charts, or pulled Tarot cards in quiet moments—falling down online rabbit holes just trying to understand, why am I the way I am? 

The one who tucked spiritual podcasts into morning commutes, the one who journaled late at night trying to make sense of it all.

The hiders I work with are seekers, too. They always have been.

They are the quiet cycle-breakers. The ones who began self-reflecting before they even had language for their pain. The ones who thought if they could just improve enough, fix enough, figure it all out, they could finally earn peace.

By the time they find their way to me, they’ve been riding the self-improvement train for years. And something in them is tired. Not in a defeated way—In a wise, soul-weary, ready-for-something-real kind of way.

Together, we begin to play a different game. One not about hiding or even seeking. But about being seen. It’s not about fixing what's “wrong” with you. It’s about finally getting to know what’s true about you.

This is the tender work of self-knowing and self-acceptance. Of honoring your quirks, your rhythms, your emotions, your longings. Of building a life that supports your sensitivities, instead of asking you to hide them. A life that honors your needs instead of overriding them. A life that doesn’t demand perfection—but invites you to belong to yourself.

This is the game I know well. Because I’ve played it, too. I’ve hidden. I’ve sought. I’ve softened. And now, I hold the lantern for others.

So if you’re someone who’s hidden behind strength or silence and still finds yourself seeking. Come closer.

There’s another way.

Not hide and seek.

But see and be seen.

And you don’t have to play it alone.

rooting for you,

Shaelyn