Why Social Media Validation Still Affects Me (And What I’m Doing About It)

by brownfashionagal

I wish I could sit here and tell you that I don’t care what people think of me online. That I’m above the likes, the follows, the comments. That I post for myself and only myself. But that wouldn’t be the truth.

The truth is, social media validation still affects me. More than I’d like to admit. Even after all the self-help books, the mental health podcasts, the late-night journaling, and the pep talks I give myself in the mirror.

And I know I’m not alone in this.

Because as much as we all say, “likes don’t matter,” they kind of do—at least to that small part of us that just wants to feel seen. Accepted. Loved.

So I want to talk about it. About why social media validation still gets to me, even when I know better. And more importantly, what I’m actively doing to make sure it doesn’t run my life.

The First Hit of Validation

I still remember the first time I posted a photo on Instagram and it blew up—well, blew up by my standards. I got over a hundred likes. People I hadn’t spoken to in years suddenly messaged me. Old classmates commented things like, “🔥🔥” and “OMG stunning!”

And let me tell you—I felt good. Like really good. The kind of good that lights you up and makes you want to post another one. Then another. And then maybe one more because the last one didn’t get as much attention as you hoped.

That was the start of it for me. The quiet craving for validation. It didn’t feel toxic at the time. It just felt… nice.

But over time, that nice feeling turned into need.

When “Nice” Turns Into Need

I started second-guessing my photos before posting.

Is this aesthetic enough? Will it get enough likes? Should I post at 8 PM or 9 PM?

I’d delete posts if they didn’t perform “well.” I’d overanalyze why one selfie got more comments than another. I’d feel a pang of disappointment when someone I admired didn’t like my post.

And worst of all? I tied my self-worth to how my posts performed.

It’s not that I didn’t know it was unhealthy. I did. But knowing and feeling are two very different things. And no matter how much I tried to rationalize it, I still felt disappointed when the numbers didn’t match my expectations.

That’s the thing about social media—it’s designed to make us chase validation. Every like, every comment, every follow triggers a small hit of dopamine. And we start associating those hits with our value.

It’s not your fault. It’s not mine either. But we do have a choice in how we respond to it.

The Inner Conflict

Here’s the thing: I love social media. I love creating. I love sharing. I love connecting with people online. But I hate how easily I can fall into the trap of performing instead of being.

That’s the conflict I deal with almost every day. Wanting to be genuine, but also wanting to be appreciated. Wanting to be myself, but also wanting to be liked. It’s a tug-of-war between expression and expectation.

Some days, I win the battle. I post what I love, I walk away from my phone, and I feel content regardless of how it performs.

Other days, I lose. I check likes obsessively. I compare myself to others. I feel small and invisible.

But I’ve realized that this conflict isn’t a sign that I’m weak or vain or shallow. It’s a sign that I’m human.

Why It Still Affects Me

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on why social media validation still affects me—and maybe some of these reasons will resonate with you too:

1. I want to be seen.
   Deep down, I think most of us just want to feel like we matter. That we have a voice. That we’re not just floating in the background of everyone else’s highlight reel.
2. I grew up with it.
   For many of us, social media has been a part of our lives since we were teens. Our brains were wired during a time when validation came from likes and followers. That’s not easy to reprogram.
3. It feels measurable.
   In real life, validation is abstract. Online, it’s a number. A count. It’s easier to chase something we can see.
4. It connects to deeper insecurities.
   If I’m already feeling uncertain about myself, a post that flops can feel like confirmation of those doubts. It’s not just about the post—it’s about what it represents.
5. The algorithm rewards performance.
   Let’s be real—authenticity isn’t always what gets pushed. Sometimes, the more curated or exaggerated you are, the more attention you get. And that can mess with your head.

What I’m Doing About It

Now here’s the part that really matters: what I’m doing about it. I’m not perfect, and I still get caught in the loop sometimes. But I’ve found a few practices that help ground me—and maybe they can help you too.

1. I remind myself: I am not my metrics.

This sounds cliché, but I repeat it like a mantra: I am not my likes. I am not my comments. I am not my follower count.

Sometimes I say it out loud. Sometimes I write it in my journal. Because the more I repeat it, the more I start to believe it. Slowly, those numbers lose their grip on me.

2. I post, then walk away.

The moment I hit “post,” I close the app. I go for a walk. I make tea. I call a friend. Anything that helps me detach from the outcome and remember that life is happening outside the screen.

It’s not easy at first—you’ll be tempted to check. But over time, it gets easier. You start caring less about the immediate reaction and more about the joy of sharing.

3. I unfollow and mute freely.

If someone’s content makes me feel less-than—even if it’s unintentional—I mute or unfollow. Not because I don’t like them, but because I’m protecting my peace.

Curating your feed is self-care. You’re allowed to choose what energy you consume every day.

4. I ask myself: why am I posting this?

Before I share anything, I ask: Am I posting this to express myself, or to impress someone? If it’s the latter, I pause. Sometimes I still post it. Sometimes I don’t. But the act of asking makes me more aware.

5. I talk about it.

That’s part of why I’m writing this. I’ve had some of the most honest and healing conversations just by admitting that I still crave validation. And every time I do, someone else says, “Same.”

Shame grows in silence. When we speak up, we take its power away.

6. I celebrate the quiet wins.

Not everything needs to be seen to be valid. Some of my proudest moments—the kindest things I’ve said, the art I’ve made, the growth I’ve experienced—happened off-camera.

I’m learning to find joy in those private victories. Because they matter just as much, if not more.

A Gentle Reminder for You (and Me)

If social media validation still affects you, you’re not weak. You’re not shallow. You’re not broken.

You’re a human being living in a digital world that constantly tells you your worth can be measured. It’s not your fault if you’ve internalized that.

But it is your power to unlearn it.

You’re allowed to enjoy social media without letting it define you. You’re allowed to want connection, and also want boundaries. You’re allowed to care about how your content performs, and also recognize that it doesn’t say anything about who you are.

This isn’t about quitting social media or pretending you don’t care. It’s about creating a healthier relationship with it. One where you are in charge—not the algorithm. Not the numbers. Not the noise.

Just you.