The Addiction to Being Liked

The Addiction to Being Liked

The addiction to being liked doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. It creeps in quietly—through compliments, applause, approval. You think it’s harmless at first. But soon you’re chasing validation like a hit, tweaking your personality for mass appeal, buffering your truth in the name of “relatability.”

Sound familiar? It should. Because it’s not just social media that trains us to be curated. It’s school, corporate life. It’s cultural conditioning. And it’s exhausting.

Let’s be honest: external validation feels great.

It’s like emotional Wi-Fi—when it’s strong, you feel connected; when it drops, so does your self-worth. So you adapt. You manage your vibe like a social portfolio: speak softly, smile strategically, be “low maintenance.”

You think you’re being easy to love. You’re actually being easy to ignore.

When Being Liked Means Being Less

You edit yourself before others even get the chance; delete the parts that feel too much—your anger, your ambition, your sadness. You downplay your joy. And when someone finally says “you’re so chill,” it doesn’t feel like a compliment. It feels like a quiet funeral.

Trapped in the Like Loop

The worst thing about the addiction to being liked? It’s self-reinforcing.

You behave the way they want → you get the applause → you feel hollow → you try harder. It’s a loop. And the algorithm—both digital and emotional—rewards it. You get dopamine hits for every “you’re such a vibe,” even though you’re dying inside.

Burnout Hides Behind a Smile

Burnout doesn’t always wear dark circles and missed deadlines.

Sometimes it shows up in overly cheerful texts. In being “the reliable one.” In hiding your bad day because you don’t want to be “too much.” You don’t need a packed calendar to feel drained. You just need to keep pretending to be someone you’re not.

Being Liked ≠ Being Loved

Being liked is a game of optics; loved is an act of presence.

To be liked, you adjust.
Shrink.
Play nice.
Ignore the pit in your stomach.
Let things slide.
Eventually, you slide too.

It’s not just people-pleasing — it’s self-erasure.
You become less of yourself.
Then more of what they want.
Until you’re just an echo of approval.

Approval is currency.
So, you perform.
Charm your way through discomfort.
Offer softness with a side of silence.
You’re easy to like when you’re easy to swallow.

But even that gets exhausting.
Burnout creeps in.
You question your worth.
Blame yourself.
And wonder why no one ever really stayed.

Being liked is conditional.
Being loved — the real kind — doesn’t need a mask.

So stop auditioning.
Start arriving. It won’t make you rude. It’ll make you real.

A Word to the Unfiltered Ones

If you’re here, reading this, chances are you’ve been shape-shifting too long.

You’ve turned your personality into a service. Your softness into a script. You want out—but you’re scared no one will like the unfiltered you.

Let them not.

Because the version of you that’s raw, weird, messy, and mad? That version doesn’t need likes.

It needs room.

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