In the summer of 2020, I left an organization where I had worked for more than 20 years. For almost 20 years, I had heard steady, positive feedback from people who knew my history, my strengths, and what I contributed. Then I changed companies, and most of that feedback disappeared.
My worth had not changed, but the silence made it feel as though it had. Feedback had quietly become more than useful information. It was proof that I was capable, good enough, and valued. Stopping the search for external validation begins in an uncomfortable place: noticing what we assume the silence says about us.
When the feedback stopped, silence filled the gaps
At my previous organization, even constructive feedback came from people I trusted. They had relationship equity, so I could take in their criticism and use it to improve. The overwhelmingly positive feedback felt good, as it should have. The problem was that, over time, it became part of how I understood myself.
My new company brought unfamiliar work. I was trying to make my mark and was determined to overdeliver. The people around me, however, did not know me yet. They had not seen what sIe had accomplished, and none of them had had enough time to build relationship equity with me.
When the familiar reassurance failed to arrive, my mind filled the silence: Am I doing enough? Do they think I'm doing a good job? What if I was never as capable as everyone believed? The identity crisis that followed lasted through the first couple of years there. Yet the distinction was simple: the validation had stopped; my worth had not.
Yet the distinction was simple: the validation had stopped; my worth had not.
To stop seeking external validation, name what feels shaken
We tend to bundle identity, purpose, accomplishment, fulfillment, validation, and self-worth into one emotional pile. Then a role changes or a message goes unanswered, and the entire pile appears to confirm that we are not enough. It is efficient, perhaps. It is also wildly unhelpful.
Identity describes us through our values, experiences, gifts, beliefs, and roles, though those roles can change. Purpose directs how we use our gifts, energy, and experiences in service of something that matters. It is not confined to one job, title, company, business, or role. Accomplishment records what we have done, created, learned, or contributed. We can celebrate it without expecting it to calculate our value.
Fulfillment tells us whether the way we live connects with what matters to us. When it ebbs, something may need attention, or we may be ready for change. Validation tells us how something we did, said, or created affected somebody else. These are all useful forms of information. None determines our inherent value.
These are all useful forms of information. None determines our inherent value.
We can want recognition without making it a verdict
A more accurate reading of my transition was that my professional identity was shifting. I missed the validation I once received, and I was still developing relationships with people who did not know me. All of that was true.
There is no need to pretend recognition means nothing. We can want praise, meaningful work, and accomplishments that satisfy us. The better question is what we expect those things to prove.Does the work matter to us, or does its success have to prove that we matter?
Consider a moment that prompted self-doubt: an idea met with silence or criticism, or an achievement that felt unexpectedly empty. What happened? Was the unsettled part identity, purpose, accomplishment, fulfillment, or validation? Identifying what took the hit can keep a disappointment from hardening into a judgment about personal worth.
Does the work matter to us, or does its success have to prove that we matter?
That insight may not calm the reaction right away. Our nervous system may have learned that achievement, approval, productivity, and being needed make us feel safe and connected. We can believe our worth is inherent and still feel driven to prove, perform, and push. Knowing we are worthy is one thing. Feeling safe enough to stop proving it is another.
Knowing we are worthy is one thing. Feeling safe enough to stop proving it is another.
