Human beings are created with a desire to matter. We want our lives to count, our work to have meaning, and our efforts to make a difference. There is nothing wrong with that. Neither is it wrong to be known.
There is nothing sinful about being respected, celebrated, appreciated, or recognised for genuine achievement. Society should honour excellence, integrity, and service. Recognition, when honestly earned, is a natural consequence of meaningful work.
The problem begins when recognition is no longer a result of our work but becomes the reason for our work.
Validation is a powerful human need. It reassures us that we are valued, accepted, and appreciated. Yet when validation becomes the foundation of our identity, it is never enough. No amount of applause can permanently silence insecurity.
This explains one of life’s greatest paradoxes. Some people spend years working hard, making sacrifices, building successful businesses, rising through academic ranks, leading organisations, growing ministries, or excelling in their professions. They achieve what many only dream about. Yet instead of becoming more secure, they become even more desperate to be seen. The higher they climb, the more they need recognition. The more successful they become, the more they crave attention.
This is not limited to politicians or celebrities. It happens to pastors, academics, business executives, professionals, community leaders, and ordinary people who have accomplished extraordinary things. Success, by itself, does not cure insecurity. In many cases, it simply gives insecurity a larger stage.
The psychologist Abraham Maslow proposed that human needs develop in stages. Once basic needs such as food, safety, belonging, and esteem are reasonably satisfied, people strive for self-actualisation, the desire to become everything they are capable of becoming. His theory reminds us that human beings are constantly reaching for something beyond their present condition.
But there is another reality that Maslow’s hierarchy cannot fully explain. Some people reach the very top of their profession and still do not feel complete. They have wealth but still seek approval, influence but still seek admiration, titles but still seek acceptance. They have achieved success, yet they remain emotionally dependent on the opinions of others. Their careers have reached the summit. Their confidence has not. That is because achievement and identity are not the same thing, and a person who does not feel enough before success rarely feels enough after success.
The need for validation begins to shape behaviour in subtle ways. People begin attending events simply because important people will be there. They pursue friendships based on status rather than genuine connection. Every invitation becomes an opportunity to be noticed, every photograph proof of relevance, every public appearance a statement that they still matter.
Some organise extravagant celebrations, not because there is something meaningful to celebrate, but because they fear being forgotten. Others surround themselves with influential people, hoping that borrowed significance will strengthen their own identity. Some remain in positions long after their effectiveness has declined because leaving office would mean losing the attention that came with it. Others compromise long-standing friendships and values to gain acceptance from circles they once admired from a distance.
The tragedy is not that they became successful. The tragedy is that they became prisoners of other people’s opinions.
There is a profound difference between influence and validation. Influence is about contributing to others. Validation is about needing others to confirm your worth. One is outward-looking. The other is inwardly desperate.
The most fulfilled people are rarely those who receive the loudest applause. They are those whose sense of worth no longer rises and falls with public opinion, who understand that recognition is temporary. Today’s applause becomes tomorrow’s silence. Today’s headlines become yesterday’s news. Today’s celebrated figure is eventually replaced by someone else. If your identity depends on constant attention, you will spend your entire life chasing an audience that can never satisfy you.
The healthiest ambition is not to become famous. It is to become faithful: to do meaningful work whether or not cameras are present, to serve with excellence whether or not awards follow, to leave a legacy rather than merely a reputation.
There is nothing wrong with success, with honour, or with being celebrated. But when applause becomes a necessity instead of a blessing, success quietly turns into another form of captivity.
Perhaps the greatest achievement in life is not reaching the top of your profession. It is reaching a place where your peace no longer depends on being noticed. For the person who knows who they are does not need the crowd to tell them who they have become.
These days, some awards have become interesting. You pay to receive the award, pay for the table, buy a new suit, hire a photographer, strike your best pose, and then post: “Honoured and humbled to receive this prestigious award.” The only person who wasn’t surprised was your bank account.