How to Stop Seeking External Validation (Even If Your Happiness Depends on It) - Chanakya Niti
Riya Kumari | Jun 12, 2025, 23:22 IST
( Image credit : Times Life Bureau, Timeslife )
Okay, real talk: I used to believe I was a totally independent, self-assured woman. You know the type—lip balm in one hand, iced coffee in the other, preaching “I don’t care what people think” like it was a TED Talk. And then… someone didn’t like my selfie, and I spiraled so hard I could’ve drilled to the Earth’s core.
There’s a moment—quiet, heavy—when the compliment doesn’t come, and something inside you crumbles. You post the photo. You speak your truth. You do the thing you were proud of. And then… silence. We live in a world wired for feedback. For response. For proof that we matter. And when that doesn’t show up the way we expected—through likes, texts, claps, or someone simply noticing—we start to question if we exist the way we thought we did. It’s not shallow. It’s human. But it’s also dangerous. He didn’t have Instagram. But he understood the ache of wanting to be seen, and the even deeper need to build a life that doesn’t fall apart when we’re not.
Let me ask you something uncomfortable: When was the last time you did something just for you, without secretly hoping someone would notice and clap? Exactly. Chanakya, once said:
"He who is overly attached to his family members experiences fear and sorrow, for the root of all grief is attachment."
Now, if you modernize that with a little poetic license, it goes something like:
“She who keeps checking if her story views increased after her situationship saw it, experiences confusion and tequila. For the root of all anxiety is needing other people to validate your choices.”
The more your identity relies on being approved, the more fragile that identity becomes. Because here’s what no one tells you when they say “don’t care what people think”: it’s not about developing a thick skin. It’s about remembering that your core—the quiet you, the you before you’re watched—is already enough. Not can be. Is. The trap isn’t validation itself. It’s when your happiness hinges on it. Here's the tea: most of us aren’t addicted to love. We’re addicted to being perceived as lovable. Big difference. Chanakya would’ve just arched an eyebrow and said, “Control your narrative—or someone else will.” When you’re not begging for approval, you start making choices based on what’s right for you, not what’s applause-worthy.
Here’s the thing: external validation is like that friend who hypes you up only when you’re wearing makeup and being chill about your trauma. It’s inconsistent, unreliable, and frankly a little fake. You know what’s best? Silent confidence. Doing your thing even when no one’s clapping. Especially then. Chanakya would never have begged for compliments. He played long games. Empire-level games. He wasn't looking for applause—he was looking for power. You don’t need 42 comments to know you're smart. Or funny. Or that your revenge outfit ate. You already knew it before you uploaded it. You were just hoping someone else would say it louder.
We trade peace of mind for momentary highs—the quick fix of a compliment, the dopamine drip of a like. Chanakya would look you dead in the eye and say: stop acting poor in emotional currency. Investing in self-respect will never trend on TikTok, but it will save you from the 3 a.m. doom scroll of "Am I enough?"
You will always feel good when someone acknowledges you. That’s not weakness—it’s how connection works. But when the absence of it makes you question your worth, you’re no longer seeking connection. You’re trying to be rescued. Chanakya taught that the wise do not trade long-term strength for momentary pleasure. And external validation is exactly that—momentary. It’s air. Real security comes from quiet places: what you know you gave, what you believe you are, what you would still be if the crowd left the room.
Or as I like to call it: maybe the problem isn’t that they don’t see your worth. Maybe it’s that you keep outsourcing it like a cheap freelancer. Newsflash: It’s not their job to make you feel seen. You need to see yourself like you’re a limited-edition Prada bag—rare, expensive, and completely unbothered by who gets it. Chanakya isn’t saying “don’t care about others ever.” He’s saying fix your foundation before you build your billboard.
This is the subtle danger. Validation doesn’t just change your mood. It can change your choices. It can distort your truth. You start adjusting, softening, exaggerating—so people like the version of you they see. But that’s not freedom. That’s performance. One who seeks approval from fools is himself a fool. What he meant wasn’t arrogance. It was clarity. Not everyone deserves the right to shape how you see yourself. And no one deserves the right to define you.
The need to be universally liked is basically emotional inflation. The more people’s opinions you collect, the less your own is worth. Stop being on sale. Choose people who challenge you, not just clap for you. Validation feels good, sure. But freedom? That’s the real high. And it comes the moment you realize you’re not here to be everyone’s flavor of the month.
We’ve all done it—shrunk ourselves to fit, silenced ourselves to be accepted, smiled when we wanted to speak. And yet, somehow, the ache still lingers. You don’t stop needing validation by pretending you’re above it. You stop needing it when you finally believe your value is not in how people see you—but in how true you are to yourself. Chanakya’s genius was that he didn’t chase applause. He chased results. Quiet strength. Long-term integrity. A life built from inner clarity, not outer noise. And that’s your task too. Not to be cold or detached, but to build a sense of self so rooted that approval becomes a bonus—not a lifeline.
This one's brutal, but liberating: Do the thing because it’s true to you—not because it’ll trend. Create. Speak. Love. Fail. Get back up. Not because someone’s watching, but because you are. Chanakya’s Niti was built on cold, calculated logic—but if you squint a little, it’s the warmest thing you’ll ever hear. He’s saying: you already have what you need. You’re not incomplete until someone claps. You’re not invisible unless you refuse to see yourself.
The praise. The noticing. The gentle "you matter." Learn to offer it to yourself—not in the empty way of forced affirmations, but by honoring your own effort. By choosing the harder thing when no one is looking. By standing tall in rooms that don’t see you yet. Because here’s what Chanakya understood—and what we must too: A person who depends on praise will crumble in silence. But a person who acts from truth can walk through silence like it’s solid ground.
CLOSING THOUGHT:
The goal is not to stop caring. The goal is to not collapse when others don’t care. It’s okay to want to be seen. It’s okay to feel better when someone appreciates you. But don’t let it be the only thing holding your joy together. Don’t build your self-worth on a foundation made of other people’s reactions.
Walk like your presence matters—because it does. Speak like your voice carries weight—because it does. Live like you’re already whole—because, even if you forgot it for a moment, you are. And maybe next time the world is slow to respond, remember what Chanakya might say if he were here today:
“Why beg for light when you’re already the fire?”
1. The Cost of Being Seen Is Often the Loss of Your Self
"He who is overly attached to his family members experiences fear and sorrow, for the root of all grief is attachment."
Now, if you modernize that with a little poetic license, it goes something like:
“She who keeps checking if her story views increased after her situationship saw it, experiences confusion and tequila. For the root of all anxiety is needing other people to validate your choices.”
The more your identity relies on being approved, the more fragile that identity becomes. Because here’s what no one tells you when they say “don’t care what people think”: it’s not about developing a thick skin. It’s about remembering that your core—the quiet you, the you before you’re watched—is already enough. Not can be. Is. The trap isn’t validation itself. It’s when your happiness hinges on it. Here's the tea: most of us aren’t addicted to love. We’re addicted to being perceived as lovable. Big difference. Chanakya would’ve just arched an eyebrow and said, “Control your narrative—or someone else will.” When you’re not begging for approval, you start making choices based on what’s right for you, not what’s applause-worthy.
2. Validation Is Not Evil. But It Shouldn’t Be Rent for Living Inside Yourself
We trade peace of mind for momentary highs—the quick fix of a compliment, the dopamine drip of a like. Chanakya would look you dead in the eye and say: stop acting poor in emotional currency. Investing in self-respect will never trend on TikTok, but it will save you from the 3 a.m. doom scroll of "Am I enough?"
You will always feel good when someone acknowledges you. That’s not weakness—it’s how connection works. But when the absence of it makes you question your worth, you’re no longer seeking connection. You’re trying to be rescued. Chanakya taught that the wise do not trade long-term strength for momentary pleasure. And external validation is exactly that—momentary. It’s air. Real security comes from quiet places: what you know you gave, what you believe you are, what you would still be if the crowd left the room.
3. When You Need Everyone to Approve You, You Start Betraying Yourself
This is the subtle danger. Validation doesn’t just change your mood. It can change your choices. It can distort your truth. You start adjusting, softening, exaggerating—so people like the version of you they see. But that’s not freedom. That’s performance. One who seeks approval from fools is himself a fool. What he meant wasn’t arrogance. It was clarity. Not everyone deserves the right to shape how you see yourself. And no one deserves the right to define you.
4. Don’t Cut Out Your Heart to Be Loved
We’ve all done it—shrunk ourselves to fit, silenced ourselves to be accepted, smiled when we wanted to speak. And yet, somehow, the ache still lingers. You don’t stop needing validation by pretending you’re above it. You stop needing it when you finally believe your value is not in how people see you—but in how true you are to yourself. Chanakya’s genius was that he didn’t chase applause. He chased results. Quiet strength. Long-term integrity. A life built from inner clarity, not outer noise. And that’s your task too. Not to be cold or detached, but to build a sense of self so rooted that approval becomes a bonus—not a lifeline.
5. What You Crave from Others, Learn to Give Yourself
The praise. The noticing. The gentle "you matter." Learn to offer it to yourself—not in the empty way of forced affirmations, but by honoring your own effort. By choosing the harder thing when no one is looking. By standing tall in rooms that don’t see you yet. Because here’s what Chanakya understood—and what we must too: A person who depends on praise will crumble in silence. But a person who acts from truth can walk through silence like it’s solid ground.
CLOSING THOUGHT:
The goal is not to stop caring. The goal is to not collapse when others don’t care. It’s okay to want to be seen. It’s okay to feel better when someone appreciates you. But don’t let it be the only thing holding your joy together. Don’t build your self-worth on a foundation made of other people’s reactions.
Walk like your presence matters—because it does. Speak like your voice carries weight—because it does. Live like you’re already whole—because, even if you forgot it for a moment, you are. And maybe next time the world is slow to respond, remember what Chanakya might say if he were here today:
“Why beg for light when you’re already the fire?”