There’s this moment I remember clearly from when Ellie was about three. She’d spent the entire morning arranging rocks by size on our back porch, completely absorbed, tongue poking out in concentration.
When she finally called me over to see, I almost said “That’s nice, sweetie” while scrolling my phone.
But something made me pause. I put the phone down, crouched beside her, and really looked. “You organized them from biggest to smallest. And you found so many different colors.” Her whole face lit up. Not because I praised her, but because I truly saw what she’d done.
That moment stuck with me because it reminded me of all the times I desperately wanted someone to see me as a child, and they just… didn’t.
Validation isn’t about participation trophies or constant praise. It’s about being seen, heard, and understood for who you actually are.
When that’s missing in childhood, it leaves marks that follow us into adulthood, shaping how we see ourselves, how we connect with others, and how we parent our own kids.
Here are seven signs that you might have grown up without the validation you needed.
1) You constantly second-guess your own feelings
Do you ever catch yourself thinking, “Am I overreacting?” or “Maybe I’m just being too sensitive”?
I spent years doing this. Something would bother me, and instead of trusting that feeling, I’d immediately question whether I had the right to feel that way at all.
When kids express emotions and consistently hear “You’re fine,” “Don’t cry,” or “That’s nothing to be upset about,” they learn their internal compass is broken. The message becomes: what you feel isn’t real or isn’t valid.
So as adults, we constantly check with others. We need external confirmation that our feelings make sense before we trust them.
The truth is, your feelings don’t need to make sense to anyone but you. They’re information about your internal state and your needs. When you dismiss them or need someone else’s permission to feel them, you’re still living in that childhood pattern of having your emotions invalidated.
I’m still working on this. Sometimes I’ll feel frustrated about something and immediately catch myself minimizing it. Then I remember: Ellie’s rocks mattered because they mattered to her. My feelings matter because they’re mine.
2) You’re always performing, even in private
This one’s subtle, but it runs deep.
Growing up, I learned that I got attention and approval for doing things “right”, such as good grades, helpful behavior, or just not making waves. What I didn’t get much of was attention for just being me, with no performance required.
Many adults who lacked validation develop a “going through the motions” quality to their lives. You’re constantly aware of how you’re being perceived, even when nobody’s watching.
You might catch yourself narrating your own life as if someone’s grading you. Making dinner becomes “Look how healthy this meal is.” Organizing a closet turns into proof of your competence. You can’t just exist — you have to justify your existence through achievement.
Matt noticed this about me early in our relationship. “You don’t have to earn the right to relax,” he said once, finding me anxiously tidying before sitting down to watch a movie. It genuinely hadn’t occurred to me that rest could come before everything was perfect.
When you grow up without validation for simply being yourself, you learn that your worth is conditional. You’re only valuable when you’re producing, achieving, or meeting someone else’s standards.
3) Other people’s moods feel like your responsibility
Here’s something I’m not proud of: I can walk into a room and within seconds, I’ve scanned everyone’s emotional state. If someone seems upset, my entire nervous system goes on alert.
Is it my fault? What did I do? How can I fix it?
This hypervigilance comes from growing up in an environment where you had to manage other people’s emotions to feel safe. Maybe a parent’s mood determined the whole household’s atmosphere, and you learned to become a tiny emotional detective, always trying to prevent the next storm.
Children who don’t receive consistent validation often become experts at reading others while losing touch with themselves. You learn that other people’s feelings matter more than your own. That your job is to keep everyone else comfortable, even at your own expense.
I see this playing out now with Ellie. If Milo cries, she immediately rushes to comfort him, which is sweet. But I’m also careful to say, “That’s kind of you, but Milo’s feelings are his to feel. You don’t have to fix them.” Because I know what it’s like to carry everyone else’s emotional weather.
The reality is: their happiness is their responsibility, not yours. This lesson from Rudá Iandê’s book “Laughing in the Face of Chaos” hit me hard when I read it recently. Other people’s emotions are their own, and you’re not failing anyone by having boundaries around what you’ll absorb.
4) You struggle to accept genuine compliments
Someone says, “You did a great job on that,” and you immediately deflect.
“Oh, it was nothing.” “Anyone could have done it.” “I just got lucky.”
Sound familiar?
When you grow up without validation, compliments feel dangerous. You don’t have an internal sense of your own worth, so you can’t accept someone else’s assessment either. It feels false, like they’re just being nice or they don’t really see the “real” you.
There’s also this fear that if you accept the compliment, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. Like you’re making a claim about yourself that you’ll eventually be exposed for.
I notice this with my writing. Someone will say they loved an article, and my first instinct is to point out everything I could have done better. Not because I’m fishing for more praise, but because accepting that I did something well feels impossibly vulnerable.
Learning to simply say “Thank you” without explanation or deflection is harder than it sounds. But it’s essential work, because every time you dismiss a compliment, you’re reinforcing the childhood message that you’re not worthy of recognition.
5) You’re either completely independent or completely dependent
This might seem contradictory, but stay with me.
Many people who lacked validation in childhood swing to extremes in their adult relationships.
Either they become fiercely independent (“I don’t need anyone, I’ll do everything myself”) or they become overly dependent, seeking constant reassurance and unable to make decisions without input.
The independent version looks like strength, but it’s often a protective shell. If you never needed anything as a child because your needs weren’t met anyway, you learned that vulnerability equals disappointment. So you shut down that part of yourself entirely.
The dependent version is the flip side: if you never developed confidence in your own judgment because it was constantly questioned or dismissed, you might look to others to tell you what to think, feel, or do.
Healthy interdependence, where you can rely on others AND trust yourself, requires that foundation of early validation.
You need someone to have said, through their actions, “Your needs matter. Your judgment is sound. You’re capable, and you’re also allowed to need help.”
6) You collect evidence of your worth
Do you keep every thank-you note you’ve ever received? Screenshot compliments? Maintain detailed records of your achievements?
I used to keep a folder on my computer labeled “nice emails.” Anytime someone said something kind about my work, I’d save it. On hard days, I’d open that folder and reread them, trying to convince myself I wasn’t a complete fraud.
This isn’t the same as healthy pride in your work. It’s a desperate collection of external proof because you don’t have internal conviction.
When children don’t receive validation for who they are, for their inherent worth as human beings, they learn that value must be earned and proven repeatedly. You become like a lawyer building a case for your own existence, gathering evidence that you matter.
The exhausting part is that no amount of evidence ever feels like enough. You can have a thousand compliments saved, and one criticism will outweigh them all. Because you’re trying to fill an internal void with external proof, and it doesn’t work that way.
Real self-worth isn’t built from others’ opinions. It’s built from self-knowledge, self-acceptance, and the experience of being truly seen and valued as a child.
Without that foundation, we keep collecting testimonials, hoping eventually they’ll add up to something solid.
7) You apologize for existing
“Sorry to bother you, but…” “Sorry, quick question…” “Sorry I’m taking up space…”
If you find yourself apologizing for having needs, taking up time, or simply being present, that’s another sign.
Children who grow up without validation often internalize the message that they’re an inconvenience. Their needs were treated as burdens, their presence as something to be tolerated rather than celebrated, their very existence as something requiring justification.
This shows up in countless small ways as an adult. You make yourself smaller in public spaces. You hesitate to send that email or make that phone call because you don’t want to “bother” anyone. You preface every request with an apology.
I catch myself doing this with Matt all the time. “Sorry, I know you’re busy, but could you…” And he’ll stop me: “You never have to apologize for asking me for something. We’re partners.”
But that childhood wiring is strong. When you grow up feeling like your existence was somehow too much, you spend your adult life trying to compensate by being less — less needy, less visible, less present.
The hardest and most important work is learning that you don’t need to apologize for being human. You have every right to take up space, have needs, and exist fully in the world.
Moving forward
If you recognized yourself in these signs, first: I see you. And I’m sorry those experiences shaped you this way.
The good news is that awareness is the first step. You can’t change what happened in childhood, but you can change how it affects you now.
For me, that’s looked like therapy, lots of conversations with Matt about my patterns, and consciously practicing different responses. When I catch myself dismissing a compliment, I pause and try again. When I start apologizing for existing, I notice it and (sometimes) stop mid-sentence.
Most importantly, I’m trying to give my kids what I didn’t get. When Ellie shows me her latest leaf collection or Milo babbles excitedly about something only he understands, I’m practicing presence. I pay genuine attention and acknowledge who they are.
That’s what validation really is. Not telling kids they’re perfect or special, but seeing them clearly and communicating through words and actions: You matter. Your feelings are real. Your needs are legitimate. Your existence doesn’t require justification.
If you’re parenting without having received that yourself, it’s hard work. You’re learning a language you were never taught. But the fact that you’re here, reading this, thinking about these patterns…that’s already breaking the cycle.
Be patient with yourself. You’re doing the best you can with what you know, and that’s more than enough.
