But then I ask myself: why does validation from others feel heavier than self-approval? 🤷‍♀️ I can praise myself all I want, but until someone else notices, it’s… meaningless? Or maybe it just feels lonely to be your own audience.

Sometimes I fantasize about someone reading my mind, understanding the half-formed thoughts I don’t even share with myself. 🧠💬 The idea is intoxicating—until I realize how terrifying it is to be that exposed. Can I really handle someone seeing the raw, messy version of me without flinching?

And the cruelest part? I catch myself judging those who don’t crave the same acknowledgment I do. 😶‍🌫️ They seem so self-contained, so untouchable, and I feel weak in comparison. But maybe that’s just fear talking: fear that I’ll never feel enough unless someone else says I am.

I don’t have answers. I only have this cycle of noticing, craving, and reflecting—like running in circles, but somehow hoping the view changes each time. 🌪️ Do we ever grow past the need to be seen, or is that just another story we tell ourselves to feel brave?