What if the way you “package” your pain is the very thing keeping you from being seen?

The power of packaging is so strong, so powerful. Sometimes we don’t realize that we utilize it more often than not on our own experiences.

We package our experiences with so many different wrappings. We wrap them softly with a smile when we experience something nice; we wrap them with a story we share with someone we care for.

But then we get a harsh experience - some might call it trauma --an event that, regardless of how you wrap it, will redefine everything about you. We create a package that begins with denial: this is the saran wrap, the one you keep wrapping over and over until you are sure it is strongly sealed. It can take many layers; like denial, it takes a lot of practice to build.

Once you feel it is safe you bring the first box to place it in. This one I call the casual moving‑forward box. You don’t feel happy or sad; you neutralize how you feel. You kind of move through life like a robot. The box, most of the time, is plain — white or another no‑statement color.

But now you’re not sure what the actual box should be for your product, so you start looking for the right color, size, shape. You begin to dive a bit deeper into what you want your package to say. This box is not just your brand - it is the representation of the actual item you sealed in, the one you denied ever happened.

I call this building your story, building your identity. You start finding bits and pieces of the box you want. That takes time - sometimes it takes so long you forget you left the item somewhere. So you keep looking, developing. Since you did not find one, you decide you can create it on your own, so you do.

But it took so long you end up designing a new box with all the beautiful labels on it. "Your story" is written on it. You give it one final touch and wrap it with glossy fancy see-through wrap. It is now closed, sealed, yet, empty.

Now it’s ready to go. You put it out there, yet no one seems to “buy” it — no one seems to desire it or even need it. But you keep going; you keep looking for those who will want it.

Then you understand: no one wants an empty, fancy, beautiful package. No one wants the package with an item they don’t know.

So you begin unwrapping — slowly, layer by layer. As painful as it is, you now know it is the only way.