Orbiting Other People Like They Are the Sun

It has always been easy for me to orbit other people. Probably a strategy I learned early to stay safe. I could bask in the brightness of charismatic people for days — absorbing their energy, their confidence, their momentum. I dated bad boys and worked for caustic bosses.

Part of me felt comfortable as the easy-going, cool girl. Or the secret CEO quietly making things happen from the edges. It was a way to belong without risking too much.

I grew up being vigilant too— managing other people’s moods, expectations, or reactions — and became very good at positioning myself. I learned where to stand, how loud to be, when to speak, and when to disappear. From the outside, it may have looked like humility or flexibility. Inside, it often felt like a quiet form of erasure.

Because visibility isn’t just about attention. It’s about exposure. When you step into the light — when you share your work, your opinions, your desire, your joy — you give people the chance to respond. And not everyone will respond kindly.

For nervous systems that learned love was conditional, that risk can feel enormous. So we stay half-hidden. We downplay our ambition. We laugh things off. We make ourselves easy to be around.

But easy is not the same as alive. At some point, the ache of staying small starts to outweigh the fear of being fully seen. It might show up as envy toward people who take up space easily. A boredom with your own self-minimization. A low-grade anger or restlessness you can’t quite name.

That longing is not selfish. It’s your aliveness asking for room.

It doesn’t mean becoming louder or more performative.

It means letting yourself be more real. Letting yourself want things.

Letting yourself have preferences. Letting yourself take up emotional, creative, and physical space.

That kind of visibility is tender. And it’s powerful.

Because the truth is, the people who want to meet you can’t find you in the shadows.

The lives you want to touch can’t be touched when you’re invisible.

And your life opens up. When you stop orbiting other people’s brightness and begin trusting your own.

I'm a life coach based in Vancouver, BC. I work with creatives and professionals looking for support in growing into the next version of themselves.

In the Shadows