Why We Crave Validation (And Why It’s Okay To Want It, Sometimes)

Why do we crave validation? No, really—pause and think about it. Why does that little thumbs-up on a photo feel like a warm hug from society? Why does someone complimenting your saree or your spreadsheet presentation—or your skill in parallel parking—feel like an award ceremony? You’d think we’re grown-ups. But there it is: that small, almost desperate hope for someone to say, “Hey, you’re doing great.”

Now, don’t worry. You’re not the only one. From the 19-year-old who’s refreshing Instagram after posting a sunset selfie with a quote she doesn’t fully believe in, to the 54-year-old forwarding political WhatsApp messages hoping someone will say “Brilliant analysis, sir,” to the retired school principal telling a neighbour (for the third time) that her students still call her after all these years—we’re all swimming in the same pool of gentle, and sometimes not-so-gentle, validation cravings.

It’s not always about insecurity. Sometimes, it’s just muscle memory. As children, we’re rewarded for everything: eating without spilling, reciting the alphabet, even sitting quietly for 10 minutes. Applause. Stickers. Ice cream. Validation was the love language. Somewhere in growing up, we were told to grow out of it. “Don’t care about what others think,” said everyone who absolutely did care. The irony is delicious.

But then, somewhere between campus placements and car EMIs, validation turns into performance. It’s no longer about someone liking your painting. It’s about whether that painting will get you likes, commissions, a gallery call. That’s the switch—when validation starts measuring our worth, instead of just acknowledging it.

Picture this: a college student says, “I topped the class, but my parents only asked what the topper of the other section scored.” A working woman mutters, “I got a promotion, but somehow it still feels like I’m running behind my batchmates.” A grandfather says with half a laugh, “My friend’s grandson is already a YouTube star. Mine is still doing B.Com.”

This isn’t insecurity. This is society with a megaphone shouting, “Compare! Compare! Compare!” It doesn’t matter if you’re 21 or 61—the pressure to be seen doing well never retires. And thanks to digital life, we’re not just being watched by neighbours anymore; we’re being watched by people we haven’t met since 1998 and don’t even like.

But here’s a quiet truth. The most content people you meet—yes, the ones who smile easily and don’t seem to have their self-worth on sale—have usually made peace with who they are. They still enjoy appreciation. Who doesn’t? But they’re not desperate for it. A college professor I know says, “Every time I publish something, I tell myself it’s okay if no one reads it. I’m writing because I have something to say.” That’s the gold standard.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we must all become validation monks, impervious to applause. Let’s not get dramatic. Everyone wants to be seen, heard, recognised. And that’s okay. But the craving—the almost addictive need to be told you’re enough, repeatedly, loudly, and often by people who don’t even matter—that’s where it begins to hurt.

Somewhere, the balance lies in being self-aware enough to say, “I like who I am, and I also like when others like me. But I won’t break myself trying to be likable.”

So, the next time you feel that itch—when you’re about to fish for compliments, or feel oddly empty because no one noticed your new phone, or your son’s IIT admission, or your homemade thepla on Instagram—ask yourself: Do I want to be appreciated, or am I trying to prove I’m worthy?

If it’s the former, you’re human. If it’s the latter, you’re tired.

We’ve become a generation—across generations—addicted to external scorecards. College students feel behind at 23. Professionals feel “average” despite a steady job and loving family. Retirees, who should be basking in nostalgia, instead worry whether they’ve “done enough.” Done enough for whom, though?

You’ll notice the most grounded people don’t reject praise—they just don’t need it like oxygen. A friend in her 30s once said, “The best moment of my week was singing alone in my kitchen. Nobody heard it. Nobody clapped. But I loved my own voice in that moment.” That’s it. That’s the place we need to visit more often.

Here’s the thing—validation isn’t evil. It’s like salt. Too little, and things feel bland. Too much, and you can’t taste your own ingredients anymore. The real trouble begins when we forget what we actually like about ourselves, and start borrowing mirrors from others to see our worth.

And finally, humour helps. Honestly, the ability to laugh at yourself is the ultimate self-validation. It says, “I’m flawed, I’m ridiculous at times—and I’m fine with it.” Whether it’s your father quoting Shakespeare on family WhatsApp or your aunt humble-bragging about how she accidentally got 10,000 followers, laugh with them. Then go back to living your own story.

Because the world will always be a theatre. You can play to the crowd, or you can perform for yourself and let the applause come as it may. One is exhausting. The other is freedom.

So yes—crave, if you must. Just don’t forget who you were before anyone clapped.

Dr. Srinath Sridharan is a policy researcher and corporate advisor.

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are those of the author, and do not necessarily represent the views of NDTV Profit or its editorial team.