One
of the most overlooked of basic human needs is our need for
validation—the overt or subtle assurance from others that we are
liked, respected, admired, and cared about…in short, that we are
worthy in the eyes of other humans: that we matter.
The
degree of validation we receive as a child molds us into who we
become as adults. It is a form of nourishment for the soul. Too
little, and it stunts our growth; too much and we become bloated and
too self-important to function effectively.
Some
of us, for whatever reason, can never seem to get enough validation.
Lord knows my parents, family, and friends all seemed to like me and
not to keep that fact a secret. Yet I constantly craved—and
crave—more. As a writer, absolutely nothing delights me more than
when someone says they like what I write. It is, truly, food for the
soul.
But
like most forms of nourishment, our need for validation is with us
all our lives, and the sad fact is that as we grow older, we seem to
receive less of it just when we need it more. To be deprived of
validation leads to loneliness and isolation. The older we become,
those people to whom we have always looked for validation…family,
friends, coworkers…fall away and too many of us grow weak through
its lack.
That
we live in an increasingly technology-driven society which seems
values the individual less, only intensifies increases this
insidious form of emotional starvation.
Validation
need not, especially as we grow older, be in the form of effusive
praise—and there is nothing more transparent or insulting than
condescension. But a simple sincere statement (“You look nice
today, Mrs. Johnson”) or question (“I heard you weren’t feeling
well last week: I hope you’re better now?”). Something so utterly
basic as a smile and a “Hello” or “How are you”—and if
that’s too hard to manage, just a smile—can provide the emotional
equivalent of a nice meal.
And
as I say this, I realize that I do not practice what I preach nearly
often enough. My own insecurities make me hesitant to make the first
move in any social contact. As people grow older, they often become
more withdrawn and as a result give the impression that they don’t
want to be bothered. Why smile and say “hello” to someone who
looks so dour? That it is a defense mechanism doesn’t seem to
matter: it works.
I
have, recently, really tried to do better at this, and will, after
writing this, try to do even better. It isn’t easy. But consider
how much a smile costs compared to its value. So you’re shy? So
what? Get over it! It isn’t about you, or me. Consider how you feel
when someone smiles at you or says something kind, and that what you
are doing when you do the same may very well contribute to the
recipient’s RDA of validation, and remind him or her that they are
not invisible…that they do matter.
There
is nothing more validating than to be the recipient of a gratuitous
act of kindness. Keep that in mind. Better still, act on it.
Dorien's
blogs are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and
Friday. Please take a moment to visit his website
(http://www.doriengrey.com)
and, if you enjoy these blogs, you might want to check out Short
Circuits: a Life in Blogs (http://bit.ly/m8CSO1).
2 comments:
The hubs and I stopped for dinner last weekend after leaving the rehabilitation center where his dad is and had a unique experience. There was a young lady who brought our food out and who stopped by a couple of different times throughout. At the end, she came by to clear the plates, paused for a moment, and simply said "Thank you."
"For what?" One of us asked.
"Because every time I've come over here, you've said 'please,' 'thank you,' and you've used manners."
"People don't use their manners here?" I was a bit startled by this.
"No," she sighed. "It's rare, so I tend to notice it when people do use them and you two have been extremely polite, so thank you."
We were quite puzzled by this because it's in our nature simply to act like we usually do. That must reflect well on our parents. Still, if by being polite like we should made someone's evening a little nicer, we can live with that. And it was nice she told us.
A very nice...but also a very sad...story, Kage. I don't think I'll ever understand people!
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