The Validation Problem

Encountered a being once. Tightly wound, a string has nothing on them. In a quest to achieve perfect. You should have seen them in the company they called friends, It was like looking at a bad piece of art, strangers seated at table playing characters they could never be. God forbid should they ever fall from that priceless mantle. A fool playing to the tune of fools and believing he was master. More than anything I felt sorry for them, seeking validation from a world of people who suffered their own inadequacies, who in turn also sought validation from more brokenness. Beyond this it reminded me of my old self.

They encountered me, broken in places and then some. The world disapproved of me but I was still here. Imperfect I still smiled. I was not a cheap knock off of someone else, or a generic replica of what everyone else wanted. I was a true copy of who I was. And this to a certain extent baffled them, they could not understand what I was. Why I did not seek validation from them, you do to others, what others have done to you, it was human nature I suppose. And so like a bad rash they hid me from the company they kept, for they could not be caught dead with an imperfect being, perfection could not entertain such foolishness after all. It was like looking in an old mirror. It reminded me of a dark time in my life when I altered myself for another. I’d be damned if I ever let that happen again. So here they were hiding what they thought where deep dark secrets of who they really were.

Until you encounter yourself, seeking validation from the world will be your undoing. It is an act of cowardice, an act of fear. It is an act of pride to think that you can sell an altered version of yourself, trying to be everything else but who you are. Always remember pride comes before a great fall.


“The only permission, the only validation, the only opinion that matters in our quest for greatness is our own.”

Br. Steve Maraboli


  1. im watching charcoal burn. As it burns, with time, that beautiful,bright red color is slowly replaced by the ash-grey. If one doesn’t shake off the ashes, the beauty disappears from the eyes. You can’t see the fire, but the ashes.
    In a world where being fake and thus blending in, in a quest for validation, is praised, me easily gets consumed by fakeness.
    The desire to belong being greater than to be.
    One can only but admire those that have advanced to shake off the the ashes of their unreality and thus discovered the jewel they are inside.
    Kudos for this piece! And how many people would think like you? You are jewel. #TRUTH


    – Steven Furtick


    • That’s an interesting way of looking at it, as well. I’m in absolute agreement.
      Perhaps a thorough understanding, experientially, of the fact that we are all equally miserable and therefore, equally happy would help alleviate some of the insecurities we face


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