There are days when you can’t quite locate you. Not the professional who knows what to say in a meeting, or the facilitator who helps others find alignment — but the person beneath all of that. The part of you that remembers what it feels like to be connected, grounded, whole.

And when that part is out of reach, everything starts to feel… off.
You do the work. You show up. You check the boxes. But you can feel your absence — like being in a room filled with nothingness.

This is different to burnout. It’s more akin to estrangement — a kind of inner distance that creeps in so quietly, you mistake it for tiredness or distraction. You keep thinking, I just need to rest, or I just need to get organized, but deep down, what you really need is to find your way back to yourself.

The Subtle Drift

The journey to estrangement, starts with small compromises.

• You adjust your tone to fit a client’s expectations.
• You shelve an idea that feels too “out there.”
• You start reading books that you hope will make you sound smart instead of ones that you choose to read ‘just because’.

Little by little, the disconnection widens. You’ve been trying to belong somewhere that demands that you be someone you’re not. We call it “evolving” or “adapting,” but sometimes it’s just a slow quieting of the voice that once led the way.

You might find yourself scrolling for hours, not out of boredom, but out of longing. You’re looking for something — a post, a quote, a conversation — that mirrors back the version of you you’re afraid has disappeared.

It’s not vanity and it’s not just distraction. It’s the most human thing in the world: a search for recognition. A need to be seen — not just for what you do, but for who you are when you’re not performing competence.

The Ache of Not Being Seen

Most people don’t talk about this because it sounds self-indulgent. But being seen isn’t about applause. It’s about reflection. It’s how we remember that we exist.

When our work stops reflecting us — when it becomes a series of motions disconnected from meaning — we start reading, posting, striving, chasing the smallest signals that say, “I see you.” But they never fill us for long, because what we’re really craving isn’t visibility. It’s intimacy — with our own truth.

The hardest part? You can’t outsource that recognition. You can’t scroll your way into being found. You can only start by stopping — by being quiet long enough to hear what’s been drowned out by all the noise.

The Return

The return involves nothing dramatic. It’s usually small, mundane, unspectacular — like remembering what it feels like to read for pleasure, not performance. Like catching yourself mid-scroll and choosing to sit in silence instead and perhaps asking yourself – what you need. The answer might be simply, “I miss me.”

This is what alignment work looks like when the lights are off and no one’s watching. Not strategy. Not planning. Just the soft act of remembering that you are not what you produce. You are not the feedback loop of social media. You are not the last invoice that cleared or the one still to be paid.

• You are the person who writes before thinking about who will read it.
• The one who walks outside and notices the air feels different today.
• The one who has always made meaning from mess.

That person isn’t gone. They’re waiting for your attention.

Estrangement isn’t permanent. It’s an invitation. It calls you to stop performing your way back into alignment and simply return.

The Practice of Returning

You don’t need a 10-step plan to find yourself again. You need presence — gentle, honest presence. Here are a few ways to start the conversation back inward:

• End each day by naming one thing that felt like you. Not an achievement. A feeling. A moment of resonance.
• Read for texture, not takeaways. Let language find you again. Let beauty be enough reason.
• Do one thing that doesn’t move you forward. Movement isn’t always progress. Sometimes it’s rehearsal for rest.
• Catch yourself in the act of self-editing. Notice when you’re curating yourself for approval and gently stop.

The goal isn’t to rebuild the old rhythm. It’s to build one that feels like home again.

When You Forget, Remember This

• Even the most self-aware among us drift.
• Even those of us who teach alignment sometimes lose the sound of our own voice.

That doesn’t make you inauthentic — it makes you human.

The work of remembering who you are isn’t a one-time revelation. It’s a rhythm. A practice of returning — again and again — to the truth that your worth isn’t measured by visibility, output, or validation. It’s measured by how fully you can occupy your own being, even when no one is clapping.

Strategic Reflection Prompt:

When was the last time you felt at home in your own presence — not performing, not proving, just being — and what would it look like to find there again?

About Giselle

I’m Giselle Hudson — writer, possibility thinker, musician, Organization & People Development Sensemaker™, and MCODE Legacy Coach. I help leaders and soul-driven professionals decode the deeper patterns shaping their business, work, identities, and results especially when it look like a performance issue but it’s really misalignment in disguise.

If something in your life or business feels off and you can’t quite name it, message me. Sometimes one conversation is all it takes to see what’s really going on.