Part of developing a healthy sense of self comes down to a developmental experience we all require for a sense of self-esteem to emerge: positive mirroring from our caregivers. We need to see ourselves as important in their eyes- admired, seen, and noticed, whether as cute, funny, or delightful in some other way.

When appropriate levels of mirroring are present in our childhoods, it grounds us and it grounds our sense of self in our environment and our surrounding reality. But when it’s absent, compensatory mechanisms develop in order to fill the void. The child might start clinging to the caregiver in a desperate hope for approval, or they might start acting out just to force some kind of attention. In other cases, a child may inhibit their natural need to be seen for who they are. The self goes into exile, into hiding, or the wish to be seen becomes a secret source of shame.

Some parents are simply oblivious, lost in their own stuff, or prone to projections when it comes to how they see their children. Other parents actively shame their children for any attention-seeking behaviors, perhaps externalizing their own shame over their own unmet needs for being seen. And when we are shamed for wanting to be noticed, we learn to inhibit our natural desire to show ourselves off. We start anticipating the blow: If I feel good about myself, people will think I’m a show-off. We anticipate humiliation instead of pride.

This dilemma can create a deep internal conflict. There may be an ongoing tension inside of us between a desire for exposure—a wish to be on stage, to perform, to step into the light—and a shaming internal voice that tries to hide that very wish. To protect ourselves, we might even go to the opposite extreme:

  • Shrinking into shyness
  • Avoiding any situation where we might be exposed
  • Underperforming on purpose
  • Downplaying our achievements in front of others

Exposure and shame become linked in the psyche. We crave exposure, but immediately worry that others will shame us for wanting it. We become deeply self-conscious, paralyzed by the very thing we long for most.

It’s also worth acknowledging that a wish to draw attention to ourselves isn’t always only an act of vulnerability- it can be suffused with an edge of aggression, especially if deep down we’re angry about the mirroring we never got. Showing off may become a way of forcing the other person to pay attention, of invading their consciousness with our presence, or of making the other feel small or unseen themselves. We might make jokes that have a hidden layer of anger underneath them, or act cocky, putting on the mask of a “wise guy” to keep control of the room.

In these moments, our internal image of how we are seen can flip between feeling admired and funny in one moment, and then humiliated or like a fool in the next. In some cases, we are simply projecting our own self-judgment onto the other person. We anticipate their hostility because we haven’t forgiven ourselves for wanting to be noticed in the first place.

Creative activities can be particularly activating of these issues.

A certain amount of acceptance of our need for “showing off” is actually necessary to publish our writing, share our art, or put any creative work out into the world. It’s not that we only want to be seen or get applause. Creative work is also about sharing something meaningful, evocative, and experiential—translating an internal experience into an external form so it can be shared with another mind. But if our internal conflicts about being seen—or our worries about how others will feel or react—are unresolved, our creative flow gets blocked. We inhibit ourselves. We stop short. We refrain from putting ourselves out there because the relationship between our aggression, our need for attention, and our healthy self-esteem feels too tangled to tease apart.

And our need for attention is not always just a need for attention from just anyone. Often, we latch onto a specific, powerful “other”—an idealized figure who we feel has the unique power to make us feel important and valid. We aren’t just searching for an audience; we are searching for the perfect audience.
This search usually traces back to early roots. When a parent won’t acknowledge us for who we truly are—when they look at us only through their own self-absorbed mirror, or view us as a mere extension of themselves, or gaze at us with a critical, shaming eye—it leaves a deep deficit in our sense of self-esteem and our ability to show ourselves in healthy ways. We look to idealized others to take our shame away.

Feeling too ashamed to let others see our need to show off, or to admit how hungry we can be for attention, may be a way of trying to protect ourselves. And yet, without that exposure, we can’t ever truly feel seen.

The work, then, isn’t to erase the desire to be noticed or pretend we are beyond it. It’s to recognize that the need to be seen was legitimate all along—and to allow ourselves both the grief of not having had it and the permission to put ourselves out there when we have something to share or say.