People say that when you’re aware of a problem, you’re already halfway to solving it. In Part 1 of this series, I shared how I first acknowledged my fear of being seen — and the moment that question surfaced during a quiet walk.

But awareness wasn’t enough. I needed to go deeper. So I asked myself: Where did this fear begin?

Where Does the Fear of Being Seen Come From?

For a long time, I shelved it under the “I’m an introvert” label. My dad, Baba Ibeji, often reminds me how I was a reserved child — maybe I was just born this way.

Young girl sitting quietly, capturing a childhood memory of being reserved and introspective.

But I didn’t want to stop there. I was determined to go beyond the surface.

I spoke to a friend about it.  She was surprised — she’d never imagined I had such a fear. “Maybe it’s rooted in childhood,” she said. Then, a memory flashed: high school assembly. I was wrongfully accused of something I didn’t do, flogged in front of the entire school, and told by a female teacher that I was a “shame to womanhood.” I was also stripped of the opportunity to run for Head Girl. That moment left a scar. Shame.

Each of us carries this fear for different reasons. As Chimamanda Adichie said:

We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller… You can be ambitious, but not too much…

As Black women, the fear of being seen can stem from the pressure to sound a certain way, to look a certain way, to be non-threatening. Otherwise, in this wild world web, we risk being “cancelled.”

Sometimes, the fear is born when vulnerability meets shame. Next time, silence feels safer.

What the Fear of Being Seen Looks Like

This fear isn’t always dramatic. It doesn’t always mean hiding in your room — though on some days, that’s exactly what I do. After all, with a laptop and Wi-Fi, I can stay in my comfort zone and still get things done.

But fear wears many masks.

For me, it often manifests as perfectionism—waiting until everything is flawless before I share it, delaying that launch, that post, that pitch because I think I need to be better first.

It looks like downplaying achievements, brushing off compliments, or shrinking in conversations because I don’t want to seem “too much.”

It also looks like missing opportunities — not because I’m unqualified, but because I don’t feel ready, even when I am.

Sometimes, it’s self-sabotage disguised as humility.

A Winning Mindset: Tools I'm Using to Overcome This Fear

Acceptance

I’m learning to accept where I am — fearful but growing. It’s okay to feel afraid. But it’s also safe to be seen. Not everyone will approve of what I do, and that’s okay. I wasn’t made to be liked by everyone. I choose to focus on the people who value me — and that begins with me.

Unfiltered selfie in cozy pajamas — a quiet act of being seen as you are.

Self-Inquiry & Meditation

 Through journaling and quiet reflection, I ask when i feel anxious:

  • “What am I really afraid of right now?”
  • “What would happen if I allowed myself to be fully seen?”

Reparenting My Inner Child

When I think of my little niece, I know exactly what I’d say if she told me she was afraid to be seen:

“You’re powerful, enough and I’m proud of you.”

Now, I say the same to the little girl inside me.

Affirmations

I’m also leaning into affirmations. We recorded one called Shine Shine on our “The Daily Dose” album — a daily reminder that I am a shining star, unique and valuable.

Afrocentric affirmation poster with golden stars, spotlighting the message 'I am light — Iràwọ̀ ni mi.

Shifting My Mindset: Showing Up is Service, Not Vanity

At a TEDxLondonWomen event themed We’re Showing Up, something stayed with me. I now see visibility as purpose, not ego.

So I breathe deeply, ground myself, and walk through the fear — because on the other side lies my greatest good.

I will remind myself always that someone out there needs what I carry, and I must show up for them.

TEDxLondonWomen tote — a symbol of purpose, visibility, and showing up with intention.

You’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you are more ready than you think.

Let’s show up — not for attention, but for impact.

We can do this. I look forward to the greatness ahead.