Someone who knows you completely says — you look good today.
You shrug. “You have to say that.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re close to me. It’s your job.”
Silence. They return to their coffee.
Ten minutes later.
Post a photo online.
A stranger comments — “looking good!”
You smile. First time that morning.
Earned validation. From someone with no reason to lie.
This happens constantly.
Someone close compliments your cooking — you assume politeness.
A stranger online comments — genuine pride.
Someone close says they’re proud of your work — spousal obligation.
Your boss mentions it — replay it all week.
Someone close says you’re good at something — brush it off.
A colleague makes an offhand remark — you glow.
Strangers’ approval feels real.
Intimate approval feels… required.
Someone notices.
“They just complimented what you made.”
“Yeah, being nice.”
“And you posted it online.”
“So?”
“So you dismissed their compliment but you’re seeking online validation from strangers who can’t see it’s imperfect.”
True. It was imperfect.
The person close to you knew. Complimented anyway.
Strangers online couldn’t tell from the photo.
Which validation was more meaningful?
If you have ever wondered how to stop caring what strangers think online, ask yourself —
Why do close people’s compliments feel obligatory?
Because they love you. Have to say nice things.
Do they have to?
Probably not. But feels that way.
And strangers?
They have no reason to lie. If they like something, it’s genuine.
But wait.
They also have no reason to tell the truth.
They don’t know you well enough to have informed opinions.
The person close to you does.
Never thought of it that way.
Here’s the truth.
Someone close knows you completely.
Seen you at your worst. Lazy days. Bad moods. Failures you hide from everyone.
Knows your flaws intimately.
Lived with your mediocrity for years.
And still chooses to compliment you.
That stranger online?
Sees a curated photo.
A single moment.
The gap between online vs reality means they are responding to a performance, not a person.
Close validation carries the weight of comprehensive knowledge.
They know what they’re praising.
The stranger is just clicking a heart icon.
So why does theirs feel more real?
Ask them.
“Do you ever feel like I don’t appreciate what you say?”
Long silence. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I have. Multiple times. You don’t hear it.”
“When?”
“Every time I compliment you and you brush it off. Every time you dismiss my encouragement. Every time you post something online seeking approval from people who don’t know you while ignoring the person who does.”
Feel sick.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. But it doesn’t change. I tell you you’re good at something and you shrug. Someone at work mentions it and you’re happy all day. I praise your work and you dismiss it. Your boss says one positive thing and you call me excited. Do you know how that feels?”
No words.
A child does something interesting.
Shows you a drawing. “Do you like it?”
“It’s great.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my parent.”
Stop.
Hear your own words coming from a seven-year-old mouth.
“No. I’m saying it because it’s true. Because I actually looked at it and I genuinely think it’s great.”
“But you have to say nice things.”
“I don’t have to. I choose to. Because I mean it.”
Skeptical look. The way you look when someone close compliments you.
You’re teaching them to dismiss love.
That night. Can’t sleep.
How many genuine compliments over the years? Hundreds? Thousands?
How many accepted? Really accepted, believed, let affect how you saw yourself?
Almost none.
Been treating intimate validation like obligatory noise.
Treating strangers’ approval like meaningful signal.
Dismissing intimate knowledge.
Privileging ignorant clicks.
Ignoring strangers feels impossible when you give them so much power over your emotions.
Teaching them that their opinion doesn’t matter.
And slowly, predictably, they started offering less.
Why would they keep complimenting when you made it clear you didn’t value their words?
Start paying attention to your responses.
“You handled that really well.” — “You say that every time.”
“This is delicious.” — “It’s just basic.”
“You look nice today.” — “You always say that.”
Every single time.
Find a way to dismiss them.
Make their compliment meaningless.
Protect yourself from having to accept that someone who knows you completely might genuinely think well of you.
Because here’s the brutal truth —
Accepting their validation would mean believing you deserve it, confronting your true self worth.
And that’s terrifying.
Strangers’ approval is safe because it’s shallow.
They don’t know you well enough for their praise to challenge your self-doubt or trigger your fear of judgment.
Someone close does.
Their compliments, if you accepted them, would require changing your entire self-concept.
It’s easier to chase social media likes from strangers than to believe someone who knows you. Learning how to stop caring what strangers think online means facing that exact fear.
Apologize. Really apologize.
“I’ve been dismissing you. Your words. Your validation.”
“Yes.”
“And I’ve been seeking the same thing from strangers who don’t know me.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I’m going to try to change that.”
Same unreadable expression. “Okay.”
“Do you believe me?”
“I want to. But you’ve said sorry before. Then you go right back to posting for strangers while dismissing me.”
True. Created a pattern.
Words won’t fix it.
Start small.
They compliment your work.
Instead of brushing it off — “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
Surprised look. “Really?”
“Really. You know me. You know how much work I put in. So yes, it means something when you notice.”
They smile. Actually smile.
Like they’ve been waiting years to hear that.
Someone older tells you.
“We used to have this problem.”
“What problem?”
“They’d compliment me and I’d dismiss it. Say they were biased, had to say nice things. Then I’d come home excited because some stranger had praised my work.”
“What changed?”
“They stopped complimenting me. Just stopped. And I realized what I’d lost. Someone who knew me completely and still chose to see good in me. Someone whose validation actually meant something because it came from comprehensive knowledge.”
“What did you do?”
“Started appreciating them. Really appreciating them. Trusting loved ones and accepting their words as genuine instead of obligatory. Realizing that being close to someone doesn’t make their praise meaningless — it makes it more meaningful. They choose to see your strengths despite knowing your weaknesses.”
Last night.
Someone close said you’re good at something.
Usually you’d brush this off.
But you stopped. Thought about it.
How they see you every day. The good moments and bad. The patience and the frustration. The success and failure.
And still, they think you’re good at it.
“Thank you. Really. Thank you.”
Careful look. “You mean that?”
“I do. You see everything. The whole picture. So when you say I’m good at something, it means more than any stranger’s opinion could.”
Their eyes fill with tears. “I’ve been waiting years to hear you say that.”
Years.
Years of compliments dismissed.
Validation rejected.
Love treated as obligation.
Delete social media apps.
Not forever. Just for a while.
It is the first step in how to stop caring what strangers think online, until you can stop seeking external validation and learn to accept it from the person who actually knows you.
They notice immediately.
“What happened to your phone?”
“Trying something different. Being present. Nurturing real connections and accepting love from people who actually offer it.”
“How’s that going?”
“Hard. Really hard. Turns out it’s easier to accept approval from strangers than to believe I deserve yours.”
“But you do.”
“I’m starting to think you might be right about that.”
A child shows you another drawing.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No. I’m saying it because I looked at it carefully and I genuinely love it. And even if I am your parent, that doesn’t make my opinion less valuable. It makes it more valuable. Because I know you. I see all your work. So when I say this one is special, I mean it.”
They smile. Believe you.
And you realize.
Not just learning to accept close validation.
Learning to give meaningful validation to others.
Understanding that loving someone doesn’t make your praise obligatory.
It makes it informed.
Tonight.
Someone close says you look good.
You don’t shrug.
Don’t dismiss it.
Don’t check your phone for validation from strangers.
Just say “Thank you. You look beautiful.”
And mean it.
Both mean it.
And for the first time in years, you understand.
The compliments that feel obligatory are often the ones that are most earned.
Because they come from someone who knows everything.
And still chooses kindness.
That’s not obligation.
That’s love.
And love —
Real love —
Doesn’t need to prove itself to strangers.
It already knows.