Looking Through Their Eyes
Every stranger is an unwritten story
By J. H. Irwin
Author | Storyteller | Capturing Life, Memory, and Meaning
There was a time when I thought first impressions were a useful skill
We meet someone new and, within seconds, our minds begin assembling a profile. We notice their clothing, their hairstyle, the way they walk, the sound of their voice, the expression on their face. We observe tattoos or the absence of them. We notice age, weight, posture, confidence, nervousness, attractiveness, and countless other details. Before the person has revealed anything meaningful about themselves, we have already begun deciding who we think they are.
It is a deeply human behavior. Our brains are wired to assess and categorize. We are constantly looking for shortcuts to help us understand the world around us. The problem is that shortcuts are often inaccurate. They may help us process information quickly, but they rarely help us understand another human being.
As I have grown older, I have become increasingly aware of how often those first impressions are wrong.
I have met people who appeared intimidating at first glance but possessed extraordinary kindness. I have met people whose rough exterior concealed remarkable sensitivity. I have met individuals who looked confident and successful while privately carrying burdens that would have crushed many others. I have met people who seemed quiet and unremarkable until a conversation revealed intelligence, humor, wisdom, and compassion that transformed my entire perception of them.
I have also experienced the opposite.
Like most people, I have been judged based on appearance. I know what it feels like to have someone decide who I am before taking the time to know me. I know what it feels like to have assumptions made about my life, my values, my experiences, and my character based on a few visible details. It is not a pleasant feeling. There is something profoundly frustrating about being reduced to a surface-level observation when your life contains an entire universe of experiences, struggles, victories, failures, dreams, and scars.
Yet if I am honest, I have done the same thing to others.
Perhaps that is one of the gifts of aging. If we allow ourselves to learn, we become less interested in being right and more interested in understanding. We begin to recognize how limited our perspective can be. We start to see that every person we encounter is carrying a story we know nothing about.
Over the past few years, I have made a conscious effort to change the way I look at people. Instead of focusing on appearance, I try to look beyond it. Instead of immediately categorizing someone, I try to become curious about them. Most importantly, I try to look into their eyes.
The eyes tell stories that clothing never can.
In someone’s eyes, you can sometimes see exhaustion from battles they never discuss. You can see kindness that has survived disappointment. You can see grief, resilience, joy, uncertainty, hope, loneliness, and love. The eyes often reveal the humanity that the rest of the world overlooks.
When I look into someone’s eyes, I am reminded that they were once a child with dreams. They have known heartbreak. They have celebrated victories. They have worried about people they love. They have felt fear. They have made mistakes. They have experienced loss. They have hoped for better days.
In other words, they are not so different from me.
The more I practice seeing people this way, the harder it becomes to judge them. The person with the worn-out clothes may be fighting harder than anyone else in the room. The person covered in tattoos may possess a heart full of compassion. The person who seems distant may simply be carrying pain that is invisible to everyone around them. The person whose appearance doesn’t fit our expectations may turn out to be one of the most remarkable people we will ever meet.
Every stranger is an unwritten story. Every face contains chapters we cannot see. Every person is more than the sum of their appearance.
I sometimes wonder how many friendships never begin because of assumptions. How many conversations never happen because someone decided they already knew who another person was. How many opportunities for connection are lost because we judged a cover and never opened the book.
The tragedy is not simply that we misjudge others. The tragedy is that we rob ourselves of the chance to know them.
Some of the most meaningful people who have entered my life would never have been chosen by first impression alone. They became important because I took the time to listen, to learn, and to look beyond what was immediately visible. Had I relied solely on appearance, I might have walked right past them.
As I move through this stage of life, I find myself less interested in what people look like and more interested in who they are. I care less about the image they present to the world and more about the person who exists beneath it. I want to know what makes them laugh, what keeps them awake at night, what they have survived, what they believe, and what they hope for.
Perhaps that is the challenge for all of us.
The next time we meet someone, maybe we can pause before drawing conclusions. Maybe we can resist the urge to place them into a category. Maybe we can remember that every person we encounter is living a life as complex and meaningful as our own.
If we do, we may discover something extraordinary.
Not just who they are, but who we become when we finally learn to see people through the eyes of our shared humanity.
Words can still move the world. Read mine → https://substack.com/@jhirwin