The Quest for Approval

Approval.

It’s a dirty word that clings to us from birth to death. We search for it, we yearn for it. We’ll lie, cheat, and steal for it. The pursuit of approval causes despair and self-loathing. Finding it is only temporary before we move onto the next need.

I’ve been needy for approval my entire life. Perhaps needy isn’t the right word. Desperate. That’s the correct word. Desperate for approval. I’m not alone. Many people spend lives not their own in search of approval. In the beginning, smiling and playing games in the crib while making our parents brim over with joy. Wanting them to pay attention to you and you only. Later, hanging out with cliches in school to gain status. Finally, working jobs that don’t make you happy so that you can obtain items those around you have and apparently need as well.

The approval quest haunts us even as we know it’s a source of our unhappiness.

Why do we do this to ourselves and how do some people avoid the approval trap?

My genesis lies in abandonment. My father split when I was just over a year old and I never saw him again. After that, life was a series of moves as my mother tried to provide a semblance of a normal life. But there is no such thing as a normal life when such a betrayal as abandonment occurs.

An only child moving from year to year, switching schools frequently and having to build the facade of friendship at each school. It was hard to trust that I’d stay long enough to grow roots…. and peer approval was all I wanted. Sometimes I got it. Sometimes I got punched by the school bully instead.

As time went on I found being the class wiseass seemed to garner peer approval, so I went with that tact. The problem with being a smartass was that it was also a way to earn the scorn of teachers who didn’t appreciate my insolent behavior towards authority on behalf of my classmates. Once I was brought back in from the hallway by the teacher it wasn’t like I was hailed by the class for my hijinks. They would look straight down at their desks so the teacher won’t lump them in with me.

Approval in the teenage world is a minute-by-minute exercise in self-preservation.

I assumed that once I hit adulthood my thirst for approval would dry up. I was wrong. If anything it was worse because now there were intimate relationships to worry about. Getting laid was far more serious than whether I was allowed to join a schoolyard kickball game.

In the dim light of the bar every one of my insecurities raged. Fretting in the mens room, combing and recombing my hair. Should I tuck my shirt in or leave it out. Would she pass me by for Mr. Rico Suave. You know the guy. Glistening hair, chiseled features, six-packs ripping through his perfect sport coat and pastel t-shirt. Hot sports car that’s always valet parked. My beer gut, Salvation Army bought polo shirt, and crappy car didn’t stand a chance. If only I could be more like Rico.

That’s what my insecurities screamed at me.

One would think that as time moves on and marriage, better jobs, more money, larger homes, nicer cars entered the picture we’d settle down and kick the need for approval to the curb. And yet, there it is… the old nemesis “approval” gettIng ready to rear it’s ugly head once again.

Your job gets treated with scorn at family gatherings. Your brother makes more money than you and isn’t afraid to let you know it. The home and car aren’t late model. You don’t summer in France or winter in Aruba. The thought of being seen walking out of a thrift store gives you the cold sweats.

Sometimes you feel the need to overstate your life just to keep up appearances.

Why do we do those things to ourselves. Why does it matter so much what others think of us. Why are appearances so important, especially to people who are irrelevant in our daily lives. Why are we so insecure?

When it gets down to brass tacks, that’s what the need for approval is really all about. I’m certain my abandonment issues and continued movement as a child played a large role in my insecurities..

When January rolls around I tell myself this is going to be the year that I no longer care what others think. I’m going to be one of the people I see doing exactly what they want with their lives and if the world doesn’t like it too bad.

That lasts until lunchtime on the 1st.

That’s when I start wondering what I need to do to gain more readers of my stories or have more people listen to my podcast. My resentment levels rise as I see family and friends ignore my Facebook sharing of my latest online story or podcast episode.

In that anger, I revisit the insecurities again and again. A lifetime looking imploringly at others and silently begging “look at me, listen to me, I have something of value to offer you.”

If they would just click “like” or hit “share” that will show me they care.

Checking my Facebook, Twitter, G+ feeds obsessively day and night. Anger building as my self-perceived approval ratings tank with each passing minute as no one tells me they found what I had to say interesting. The mind racing into a blur of non-reality and judgment towards others.

What that does is create damage in the moment only you can see and feel. You build an environment wholly based on what’s going on inside your head. A world of paranoia, crushing disappointment, and the need to do whatever it takes to garner love and respect.

Sometimes I’ll stop myself in the middle of an inner-rant and ask myself “why do you care what they think?’

Why can’t I just derive satisfaction from a story I enjoyed writing or a podcast I had fun producing? Who cares if someone didn’t like the political post I made; it’s how I felt and I’m entitled to say it. But in the next moment another thought creeps in.

Oh my God, what if they unfriend me…. in real life?

I don’t have any more answers in my fifties than I did as a teenager. There are fleeting moments when I don’t care if my thoughts or actions are met with approval…. but just fleeting before reverting back to lifelong patterns.

Those moments are delicious. They tell me that I still have a chance to be free from the quest for approval. Those around me won’t hate or abandon me it I don’t give them all of myself. In those moments there is clarity that I’ve been holding myself prisoner and that I do have the key of letting go.

We all have the key. Approval sucks. We don’t need others to validate our places in the World. You won’t be voted off the tribe if you stick to your beliefs.

Now that doesn’t mean I’m advocating a selfish existence where the wants of others becomes irrelevant. Far from it. I’m saying that we need to live a life on equal terms where the desperation is eliminated. End the insatiable hunger that makes us weak.

Say no sometimes.

Be bluntly honest sometimes.

Think of our own needs first sometimes.

That doesn’t mean it will be easy. Just the thought of doing the three things listed above almost causes an anxiety attack. But if I want to stop the hamster wheel of approval it’s three important steps that I need to take.

This tribe of one is voting.

Please send comments on this story to me at jamesbarraford@gmail.com