Validation Is Not the Same Thing as Being Seen
I recently saw a post on Threads by the British author, podcaster, and life coach Jay Shetty:
What’s something that you used to value, that you don’t value anymore?
I’ll go first: validation from others.
Soon after, therapist Jeff Guenther (better known as Therapy Jeff) commented:
Friendly reminder: It’s incredibly healthy to want to be seen and validated by your community. We don’t have to pretend we’re islands to be “enlightened.” Also, the irony of using a platform built on likes and shares to announce you don’t value validation is… a lot.
As you might expect, the comments section quickly turned into a chaotic jousting match between strangers, rather than a meaningful engagement with either point.
What struck me about this exchange was twofold:
They’re both right—and both incomplete.
The question of validation becomes especially thorny when you’re a creative sharing work publicly.
So let’s unpack this.
Social Media Is Built for Half-Thoughts
This “conversation” happened on Threads—a platform designed for punchy declarations, not nuance. Social media rewards certainty, not clarity. You don’t have to define your terms; your audience will do that for you, often badly.
We shouldn’t expect careful distinctions on platforms optimized for speed and reaction. What we should expect is half-formed ideas treated as philosophical positions, followed by people projecting their own anxieties onto them.
Still, both Shetty and Guenther are pointing at something real.
Why Shetty Isn’t Wrong
Shetty’s claim—that he no longer values validation from others—matters, particularly for creatives.
If you’re making work primarily to be validated, you’re outsourcing your internal compass. You’re asking the crowd to tell you who you are and whether what you made is “worth it.” That’s a fragile position, because most people won’t understand your work. And they’re not required to.
In fact, if your work has universal appeal, something is probably off. Interesting work tends to be specific. Personal. A little strange. The more you understand who you are, the less external validation has to do the heavy lifting.
Self-validation isn’t narcissism. It’s authorship.
Why Guenther Isn’t Wrong Either
At the same time, Guenther is right to push back against the idea that wanting validation is a moral or spiritual failure.
Humans are social creatures. We want to be seen. We want to know we exist in relation to others. Being recognized as a person—with interiority, dignity, and value—is not the same thing as chasing applause.
The problem is that we collapse these two ideas into one word: validation.
And that’s where things get muddy.
The Distinction That Actually Matters
Here’s the distinction I keep coming back to:
Being seen as a person is a human need.
Having your work validated is optional, and risky if you depend on it.
When I center other people’s approval in my creative process, every lack of validation feels personal. Silence feels like rejection. Misunderstanding feels like failure.
But when I center my own perception—when I make something because I see it, understand it, and believe in it—external validation becomes additive rather than essential.
If other people’s perception is the center of the work, then someone else could probably make it. But when my perception is the center, I’m the only one who can.
And here’s the paradox: when you stop chasing validation, you often find it anyway, just not from everyone.
Which is exactly how it should be.
Why Validation Becomes Dangerous in Creative Industries
There’s another layer to this conversation that matters beyond individual psychology: what happens when validation becomes the primary metric for whether creative work is “good.”
In theater, validation often shows up as ticket sales, strong reviews, sold-out runs, or producer interest. These signals feel authoritative, but they’re not neutral. They’re shaped by market forces, branding, access, taste-making power, and timing—not craft alone.
A full house does not necessarily mean strong work.
A glowing review does not mean the work took risks.
A producer’s interest does not mean the work has depth.
What these signals actually measure is consumption—that people are willing to buy, attend, or promote the work. That’s useful information, but it’s not the same thing as meaning, rigor, or cultural value.
When creative communities begin treating market validation as proof of artistic worth, the goalposts quietly shift. Instead of asking, “Is this work honest, challenging, or well-made?” we start asking, “Is this work sellable?”
At that point, the work risks becoming the entertainment equivalent of Cheetos: engineered for immediate pleasure, highly consumable, and nutritionally empty.
If we measure all food by how addictive it is, we shouldn’t be surprised when we end up malnourished.
The same is true of art. When creators internalize validation as the ultimate measure of success, ecosystems begin to reward familiarity over innovation, reassurance over discomfort, and volume over depth. Work that challenges audiences may struggle, not because it lacks merit, but because it doesn’t optimize for approval.
That’s how creative industries slowly hollow themselves out.
So Where Does That Leave Us?
Validation isn’t evil. Being seen matters. Community matters.
But validation is a lagging indicator, not a compass.
When creators rely on it too heavily, they risk shaping their work toward approval rather than toward clarity, necessity, or truth. The result is work that may succeed by every external metric while offering very little back to society.
The goal isn’t to reject validation entirely. It’s to refuse to let it decide what deserves to exist.
If the work needs to be made, make it. If some people get it, great. If many don’t, that may be the point.
And if everyone loves it immediately— that’s probably when it’s time to ask harder questions.
