Raspberry Iced M

I didn’t realize how much of my identity was tied to other people’s approval…until very recently.

It wasn’t obvious. But how I felt about myself used to depend on how I was treated, whether I was chosen, whether I was understood, whether I was wanted.

And when those things were present, I felt okay. When they weren’t, I didn’t.

Approval feels like safety. Like I’m doing something right. I’m enough. I belong. And when you’ve spent a long time wanting to feel chosen, approval can feel like confirmation. Like proof that you matter.

But the problem is that approval is unstable. It changes. People change their minds. They see you differently based on their own experiences. People respond based on their capacity – not your worth. And if your value is tied to something that is unstable, your sense of self will always be fragile.

So I had to face a hard truth – there are people who will never approve of me. Not because I’m not trying. Not because I’m not growing. But because of what they’ve experienced, what they believe, and what they’re not ready to revisit.

I cannot control that.

And that used to undo me. So I’d combat it by explaining more. Doing more. Being “better” – whatever that means. Proving myself. I wanted to earn back something I never truly had in the first place. And in the process, I lost myself.

So in the last few months I’ve started asking a totally different question. Instead of, “Do they approve of me?” it’s, “Am I living in a way I can stand behind?”

That question grounded me into something much more stable. It has required deep dives into my own life and my own habits. Not for others to see. But so that I can become someone I can tolerate.

Worth is not determined by who stays or leaves, who understand or who approves. It exists ahead of all of that. Worth is not something that is assigned by our peers. It is something we carry.

We have to separate our worth from caring what people think, because the two are mutually exclusive.

I care what people think about me. I probably always will. I still feel it when I’m misunderstood. I still notice when I’m not chosen.

But I don’t let it define me anymore. And I certainly don’t chase it or build my identity around it. The gift I get in return is peace. The quiet kind that isn’t dependent on feedback or reassurance. Just a steady grounding in knowing who I am, what I’m working on, and the direction I’m moving.

And that’s enough.

The approval of others feels so good. But it wasn’t meant to define us. Because if our worth rises and falls based upon how others see us, we will always be at the mercy of something we cannot control.

So I am learning to build something steadier than that. Something rooted in truth, not perception. Something that doesn’t disappear when someone else looks away.

That, Friends, is real stability.