Most people are constantly looking for validation.
Every conversation becomes an opportunity to receive approval. Every post, every achievement, every decision.
They want to be liked, respected, admired, and accepted.
And this desire is so deeply ingrained in society that people rarely stop to question it.
Consider the stories people tell.
Almost every story follows someone overcoming adversity to achieve something extraordinary. They become successful, powerful, wealthy, admired, or loved.
A movie about a person finding enlightenment by meditating and repeating the same day for thirty years would hardly be a blockbuster.
Not because their life is necessarily less meaningful.
But because there's nothing tangible that people are particularly impressed by.
People have learned to associate a good life with a life that others would consider good.
But it makes sense, doesn't it?
As children, people depend on the approval of their parents.
They learn what is right and wrong through their reactions. They're rewarded when they behave appropriately and corrected when they don't.
Their parents' approval becomes a way of navigating the world.
And there's nothing inherently wrong with that.
A child needs guidance.
But children possess an extraordinary ability that most adults have lost.
The ability to dream.
Ask a child what they want to become, and you might hear that they want to be an astronaut, an explorer, a musician, or something you've never even heard of.
They don't immediately concern themselves with whether their ambitions are realistic.
They imagine what could be before considering what should be.
And then they grow up.
Slowly, they're introduced to reality.
They learn that certain ambitions are unrealistic. That some careers are respectable while others are risky. That some dreams are worth pursuing while others are better left behind.
They learn what is expected of them.
And somewhere along the way, something rather strange happens.
They lose the child's freedom to dream but retain the child's dependence on approval.
They become what you might call obedient adults.
People who have learned to dismiss their own desires while continuing to depend on others to tell them what is worth pursuing.
They've learned to be realistic without learning to be independent.
And perhaps the strangest part is that they mistake this for maturity.
They believe they've become independent because they pay their bills, make decisions, and take responsibility for their lives.
But how many of those decisions are actually their own?
How much of what they pursue is something they genuinely want, and how much is something they've learned to want because other people approve of it?
You might spend years pursuing a career because it's considered prestigious.
You might buy things you don't particularly care about to impress people you don't particularly like.
And the more successful you become at this game, the harder it becomes to recognize that you're playing it.
Because the rewards are real.
People congratulate you. They respect you. They tell you how well you're doing.
And why would you question something that everyone around you considers a success?
Yet somewhere beneath all of this, you might still hear something.
A quiet desire to pursue something entirely different.
To live somewhere else.
To spend your days doing something that wouldn't impress anyone.
Perhaps you occasionally entertain the thought.
But before it has a chance to become anything more, you dismiss it.
Unrealistic.
Irresponsible.
Childish.
And so you return to the life you've learned to want.
Not necessarily because it's what you want.
But because it's what you've learned to consider worth wanting.
And perhaps nowhere does this dependence on approval become more apparent than when people face a difficult decision.
Consider how often people ask for advice.
They ask whether they should leave their jobs, pursue their ambitions, end their relationships, or make some difficult decision.
They consult their friends, their families, their colleagues, sometimes therapists.
But are they really looking for another perspective?
Or are they looking for someone to confirm what they already want to believe?
Perhaps you've spent weeks thinking about something.
You know what you want.
But instead of acting, you start asking people what they think.
And when someone disagrees, you become frustrated.
You explain yourself. You present more arguments. You try to make them understand why your decision makes sense.
Until eventually someone agrees.
And suddenly you feel better.
But what actually changed?
Your circumstances are the same. The risks are the same. The decision is the same.
The only thing that changed is that someone approved of it.
You weren't looking for an answer. You were looking for permission.
Seeking advice appears responsible.
It looks like careful consideration, humility, and maturity.
But sometimes it's simply another way of avoiding responsibility.
Because as long as someone else tells you what to do, you don't have to stand entirely behind your own decision.
If things go wrong, at least you weren't alone in believing it was the right thing to do.
And if things go well, you get to enjoy the approval that comes with having made the right choice.
Of course, there's nothing wrong with listening to others or changing your mind when someone presents a better argument.
The problem begins when approval becomes a prerequisite for action.
When you can no longer distinguish between something you want and something you want others to approve of.
When your first response to a genuine desire is not to explore it, but to imagine what other people might think.
Perhaps growing up isn't simply about becoming more realistic.
Perhaps it also involves learning which parts of childhood are worth preserving and which are worth leaving behind.
The capacity to imagine a life without first asking whether it's acceptable.
The willingness to pursue something without needing everyone else to understand why.
And the ability to make a decision that belongs entirely to you.
Because there's a difference between being responsible and being obedient.
One requires you to accept the consequences of your choices.
The other allows you to avoid making choices of your own.
And if you've spent your entire life being rewarded for obedience, that distinction might be harder to recognize than you think.
So the next time you find yourself asking someone what you should do, consider something.
Are you genuinely looking for an answer?
Or are you simply waiting for permission?
I work privately with a small number of people who feel the quiet weight of something missing and are serious about change.
Reply if you'd like to know more.
Sincerely,
Milo Morrison