Being Perceived
by Kit Scott
“Being perceived” refers to the experience of being noticed, watched, and interpreted by others, which can evoke feelings of anxiety, exposure, or fear of judgement. It often involves the pressure to meet social expectations or to “mask” one’s authentic self to avoid criticism - an experience especially common among neurodivergent individuals.
At 4 years old I had stated that I wanted to begin ballet. Convinced that it would be a temporary fleeting hobby, my parents did not initially purchase the expensive stockings, leotards, shoes, skirts, hair nets and other required dancewear. After a few weeks my teacher noted to them that this was probably more serious than a momentary hobby, and from then on, layered in stockings, bobby pins, and flowing skirts, I was absolutely in love.
Pictured: Baby Kit, in aforementioned flowy skirt.
I practised classical ballet for 13 years alongside tap for 12, followed by one very unsuccessful year of hip-hop. The pressure I felt throughout those 13 years meant my enjoyment started to waver as the years went by and the expectations rose even higher, leading to me questioning if this was really what I wanted to do as a career.
As an Autistic teen, I constantly tried to mirror those around me and ensure that every action I made was not “embarrassing”. I was terrified of what everyone around me might be thinking at any given time, convinced that all eyes were on me.
By the time I reached 17, I was feeling the immense pressure of high school and the judgement of my peers like never before, and I decided to quit dance altogether. It was a painful decision, and one that my parents supported me in fully, despite sharing their own disappointment after watching my growth over the years.
At 30 years old, I found myself increasingly missing dance. I would move around the kitchen as I put clean dishes away in the cupboards, practising ballet movements my muscles had never forgotten. Pliés at the sink, sliding into each of the fundamental positions.
One afternoon my mum mentioned that she had started to take line dance classes with a friend of hers. I felt an instant ⚡️pang⚡️ of jealousy as she told me how much fun she was having dancing and learning something new. I felt nervous, but as she is the person I feel safest around, I took my brief flash of bravery and told her I would join her at her next class.
A week later, there was a lump in my throat as I walked into the community hall. I was increasingly aware of my growing sensory overwhelm, my t-shirt touching my neck, the waist-band of my leggings.
I felt perceived.
Even as an adult, I feel great pressure whenever I’m around other people to be funny, interesting, and intelligent. I still have an ingrained fear of being judged, despite being surrounded by evidence to the contrary.
I started replaying memories of the judgement and expectations I experienced during my 13 years of classical ballet. And yet my excitement to dance again was bubbling furiously in my stomach.
The Instructor stepped onto the small platform in front of us and beamed at the collection of people in the room.
I hadn’t even looked around me…
I had been too focused on what everyone might be thinking about me, spinning in my own head.
As she began speaking, I took my first look around the room realising that I was surrounded by an incredibly diverse group of people. As I relaxed my shoulders slightly, I became aware of a gentleman just behind me who was openly and vibrantly stimming, and not one person was glancing his way in judgement. Soon after, he confidently introduced himself and quickly became one of my favourite people to dance alongside. I felt safe to stim and bounce with him between each routine.
With the flick of a switch as the music began, the hit of anxiety around possibly making a mistake was dizzying…..
What will people think?
Will I be laughed at?
Will I be judged?
What did I learn? That nobody noticed.
Nobody stared as I stumbled through the steps.
They were too busy stumbling themselves, or in deep focus, or laughing together.
As I drove home I wondered…
What do I actually lose if I make a mistake?
What is the real life consequence of being perceived while not doing something perfectly?
If someone does judge me in those moments, do I want to focus on that person’s thoughts?
Do I want to worry about what they think of me?
Do they deserve to take up all of that space in my brain?
I still feel panic about being perceived, witnessed, viewed. There are days where my sensory overwhelm has hit the roof, or I’m at the peak of burnout, and I cannot stomach the idea of people looking my way.
But every week I dance.
Shoulders relaxed, hands ✨happy-stimming✨ accompanying constant laughter. While my skills are growing, and the mistakes are plentiful, my ability to allow those mistakes without judgement is growing even faster.
And so, my thoughts are…
When you have that flash of brave, jump on it.
Dive into the passions and interests that light you up.
And when you notice a fear of judgment, ask yourself:
Does this really matter,
are these people valuing me,
and…what have I got to lose?!
