The Radical Power of Noticing

Every once in a while, a post strikes gold for you because it puts language to something that deeply resonates with you. That is exactly what Tara Ryan does in her beautiful piece on the power of noticing, which she shared on her Substack Valuing Care. 

Tara honors her husband with genuine appreciation, shares a moment that most couples will recognize instantly, and then expands it into a larger conversation about emotional labor, partnership, and the skill of truly seeing one another.

What sets her work apart is not only the story she tells, but the clarity she brings. Tara has spent her career building systems that support women and families, advocating on Capitol Hill, coaching leaders, designing ERGs, and now building Confidante to give mothers a judgment-free space to be supported. Tara is also a fellow Fair Play Facilitator. Her expertise shows up in the way she equips readers with thoughtful reflection questions that help couples translate her insight into action. 

It is rare to find someone who can both deeply honor care work and also help us grow into better partners — and Tara does both beautifully.

I realize that some thumb their noses at appreciation and celebration of equity and partnership in our homes, because that’s what we should be doing anyway. I have a big problem with that approach. Perhaps it is because the challenges my wife and I originated outside of us, and have required us to work together to tackle them as a team.

Our spouses are not business partners, we’re couples. We must make efforts to strengthen our bonds so we can stand tall together when life throws real challenges toward us. 

Appreciating each other’s contributions is what loving couples do for one another. It’s with that in mind that I proudly share Tara’s original post. 

The Radical Power of Noticing

Exploring the quiet work of noticing that binds us together and imagining a world where it’s shared by everyone.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to notice.

Noticing is one of those things we talk about without ever really naming it. But once you see it, you cannot unsee it. So much of the invisible labor we carry, the emotional labor, the mental load, the cognitive load, is rooted in noticing.

Noticing when there’s no more toilet paper.

Noticing when a season is changing and the winter coats need to come out.

Noticing when someone you love is hurting underneath the surface.

Noticing the small shifts in your home, your family, your relationships.

Noticing the things no one assigned you but everyone relies on.

And when you step back, you realize how much of the expectation of what it means to be a female is shaped by being conditioned, from such a young age, to notice. To anticipate. To tune in to the emotional temperature of a room. To adjust ourselves based on how our actions or needs might make someone else feel. We are taught to care. Taught to accommodate. Taught to scan the environment and fill the gaps.

And yes, so much of this is beautiful. As Rose Hackman writes so powerfully in Emotional Labor, noticing and tending to emotional landscapes is part of what makes a society loving, safe, and connected. Care sustains us. Cognitive labor sustains us. These skills are at the heart of intimacy and partnership and community.

But here’s the problem, women aren’t born with a better noticing gene. We are taught. Conditioned. Expected. And men simply are not taught the same way. They grow up inside systems where someone else is doing the noticing for them.

And that’s where the imbalance begins.

So I want to share something that happened this week, not because the act itself is dramatic, but to highlight the noticing behind it.

A Story About Being Seen

I’m 36 weeks pregnant. My second pregnancy. And it has been… humbling. Hard in ways I didn’t expect. Completely different from my first.

The first time around, I had space, space to nap, to exercise, to rest, to pay attention to my body. My life was quieter. My responsibilities were fewer. My body was different.

This time, I’m building a startup. I have a three-year-old. My iron was low. I got bigger, faster. My body remembered. It stretched quicker. Everything has felt heavier, tighter, more uncomfortable.

I’ve been renting through Nuuly because maternity clothes are expensive and it’s been a lifesaver, but as I’ve gotten into the final stretch, even the maternity clothes barely fit. I’ve made little side comments about it. Things like: Oh my Gosh, this barely fits. I have nothing comfortable left.

The other day, my partner Nick said he needed to run an errand. I didn’t think twice. He meal-plans and grocery shops, so I assumed he forgot an ingredient.

He came home with maternity tops.

Ones that actually fit. Ones that felt good on my body. A cozy sweatshirt. A soft Zoom-friendly top for these last weeks before leave.

He said, “It just felt like you were uncomfortable, and the clothes you had weren’t working anymore. And I thought you deserved to be comfortable.”

He noticed my discomfort.

He noticed my quiet comments.

He noticed the gap.

He noticed me.

Nick does this often, so I wasn’t shocked… but it still hit me so deeply. When someone you love sees you, really sees what you’re carrying, what you need, what you’re not saying out loud, it softens something inside you. It reminds you that care is reciprocal. It reminds you that you’re not holding the entire world alone.

And this is the heart of what I mean when I talk about valuing care.

Noticing is a skill. It’s not innate. It’s not gendered. It can be learned. Men can learn it, and they do, when we normalize it, talk about it, model it, and invite it.

We learned to notice because society demanded it of us. Men can learn it because society needs that from them now. And we all benefit when care becomes a shared practice rather than a gendered expectation.

This is why I tell these stories. Because real change starts with awareness. With naming the unnoticed. With showing examples. With helping our partners see that they are absolutely capable of this too.

Noticing is a form of love. And love is a practice we all have to participate in.

If this resonates with you, maybe this is something you talk about with your partner this week, gently, without blame, knowing that we’ve all been socialized differently. Use it as an opening. As an invitation.

Because helping our partners notice and raising our sons to notice is part of building a society that truly values care.

Reflection Questions to Use With Your Partner

1. When do you feel most noticed by me? How does it feel?

2. What are some things in our home or family life that you think you notice and what helps you notice them?

3. What are some things you think I notice more often?

4. Were you taught growing up to scan for needs — emotional or practical?

5. What is one small area of our life where you’d like to practice noticing more intentionally?

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