Don't Just Be Great. Be Seen

I love talking to people. There’s something grounding and therapeutic about looking into another’s eyes and curiously listening, gently untangling their thoughts. Over time, I’ve grown confident in these face-to-face moments. I sense someone’s energy and meet it with my own.

But I hate texting. It never reflects what we actually mean. I love bringing up the 55-38-7 rule: 55% of communication is body language, 38% is tone of voice, and only 7% are the actual words used. Texting only gives us that last 7%, stripped of gestures, tone, timing, warmth. Sure, for strictly exchanging information, it’s sufficient. But for anything that involves personality and intention, texting feels anemic and soulless.

My disappointment came from experience. Every in-person date I’ve had was amazing. Things only drift when we switch to messages. People remember my energy at events, but not in a LinkedIn message; cold emails never land the way real conversations do.

I was venting about this to a friend the other day. He’s in a frat, and said he’s been learning texting “game” from his brothers. I’ve always found that kind of “skillset” strange and troubling: why do we need to carefully script a message just to sound effortless and nonchalant? It feels inauthentic and performative. But then he said something that hit:

You are right bro, but the truth is in today’s dating, everyone starts over text. Everyone has their own schedules and circles in college. You can be the most charming guy in person, but if you suck at texting, you wont even get the chance to meet them and show it. It’s like an interview — you gotta pass it just to be considered. There are guys who study how to pass any interview but suck at the job; they get the opportunity, and you won’t. We all hate the game, but when you have no choice but to keep playing, you have to learn and practice.

That really stuck with me.

So this isn’t about texting girls. The real conversation here is the deeper tension between perceived talent and actual talent — and how that gap can quietly decide the course of a life. Sure, if I were the one hiring or choosing, I could talk about fixing the system. But I’m not. I’m the one trying to be chosen. So the question becomes: how do I improve my odds in a flawed system?

Yes, in 2025, hiring processes and dating games are both kinda stupid. But if you still want to play, you can’t just complain. You have to accept what you can’t control, and adapt. You have to put your head down, and practice like everyone else to earn the spot.

That’s why I’m writing this. Because how to be seen is just as important as how to be great. Of course, being great matters — depth, values, heart — that’s who you really are. But perception determines opportunity. If we talk in startup terms, your essence is product engineering; how you present is product marketing. And everyone in tech will tell you: in 2025, marketing is half the battle. Marketing can feel forced, performative, sometimes cringe. But without it, no one even knows you exist. Yes, the actual product experience decides whether your users will stay. But your marketing decides whether you’ll have users at all. That’s just reality.

So this piece is for all the quietly brilliant people waiting to be noticed. For those who know they’ve got something real to offer, but haven’t been given the stage to shine. I know you, I’ve seen the depth of your mind and the warmth of your heart. And I want you to know: don’t give up. Don’t let self-doubt dim your light. Don’t let frustration with a broken system keep you on the sidelines. And whatever you do, don’t let pride convince you that showing up is beneath you.

All that glitters is not gold. But that’s exactly why, as gold, you owe it to yourself, and to the world, to show up and shine. Choose to be seen, because in a world of noises, we need more truth, more heart, more of you.