What would be the point of fame for someone who is secure in themselves? Let’s be real for a second about why we strive for fame. Why do we need millions of followers on Instagram? Why do we want to see our name in bright lights and be spoken about from wide and far? If we are being truthful, it’s because we lack something. It stems from a place of insecurity. Fame is only seeking the approval of many people. We need to do so because we believe this type of notoriety would fill the gaping hole where love should be.

What if I told you that every child who wants to become famous only does so because they don’t find approval from the people in their immediate vicinity? The girl with the abandoned father says, “If I become famous, maybe my dad will notice me.” “If I amass a certain amount of followers, maybe my actual friends won’t see me as a loser.”

This isn’t what’s said when asked, of course. You might get another answer to “I just want to inspire.” I would like to believe that this is true, but one can be inspired without knowing one’s name. Teachers are inspirational, and they do so with no likes, no followers, and hardly any hand claps. In reality, those who act with the intent of fame don’t want to be an inspiration. We want to be seen. We want to be seen because, for so long, we’ve been invisible to the people around us.

Applause, Applause, Applause

Lady Gaga wasn’t wrong when she told us that fame was a monster. The celebrities we admire tend to suffer internally because of their external beauty and accomplishments. For every successful, high-profile celebrity, I can offer maybe two who have met their demise through a breakdown, overdose, or prison sentence. Why is this? They’ve reached the mountain top. Yet, they realized the top was just as lonely as the bottom. They struggled and strived with every step towards celebrity status only to realize that it, too, has no meaning. We believe fans’ love and visibility equal meaning, but neither is true. We’ve seen how quickly a celebrity can get canceled and thus fall out of the limelight. Like everything else in this world, fame doesn’t last forever. We don’t know what true love is, so we seek validation. As we become famous, we outsource our validation to strangers.

You’re Nobody Until Somebody Sees You

Regarding fame, the belief is that you are nothing until somebody sees you. Maybe it has very little to do with fame. Maybe it’s the validation we seek every day. We wake up every day to put on makeup and perform. We make sure we are perfect and polished like an edited television show. Jim Carey wasn’t so far off. In dedication to this performance, we shape inaccurate personas of ourselves in hopes that we are more likable. It feels good because the more we are likable, the more attention we receive. We don’t realize this is a double-edged sword as we are now relying on this attention. The more attention we receive, the more work is needed to maintain this attention. The more attention we garner, the less we can make a mistake. We become robots for the algorithms, whether Instagram or public perception.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to share a gift, although it does require others to be recipients. However, our sense of self-worth crumbles when we seek validation from others. Something becomes wrong when the amount of likes on a photo of yourself determines your worth. Fame can become a byproduct of our work, but it shouldn’t become the goal. All we are doing with this goal is to replace a form of love we didn’t receive. Instead of healing our insecurity, we exacerbate it by tracking our month-over-month follower count. No amount of acknowledgment can replace the hug we should have received as a child. No amount of fame can replace the love we truly need because there will never be a number that says this is enough… you are enough.

Curtain Close

This is a call to stop the performance. Let’s look closer at the intent of our work. Am I truly sharing something of value, or do I want to be seen? Am I doing this work because I love it, or do I hate who I am without it? Can I do the same work without an audience, recognition, or applause? If so, we are doing something of value because it’s a talent that comes through us from confidence, not something we rely on for validation. Once we realize that our desire for fame comes from a place of insecurity, we can look into more productive ways of feeling safe, being loved, and knowing that we are enough. Like one of my favorite rappers, Phonte, says, “Do you really want to win, or just look good losing?”

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