False Needs, True Needs

Self‑Mothering Playlist →

There are days I still feel the pull.

The pull to be impressive. To say the right thing. To be seen in a certain light. To win the conversation. To prove I’m healed, evolved, sorted.

But the more I sit with myself—really sit—the more I realise:

Some of my needs were never mine to begin with. They were adaptations. Performances. Survival masks.

I didn’t need approval—I needed connection. I didn’t need to be special—I needed to feel like I existed. I didn’t need control—I needed to feel safe.

The ego is clever like that. It turns our deepest, unmet needs into strategies. But strategies don’t heal. They distract.

And they usually leave us lonelier than we started.

For a long time, I thought my need for approval was just part of who I was. I thought craving romantic completion meant I was a lover at heart. I thought being right all the time was just… passion. But it wasn’t. It was fear.

Fear of not being enough. Fear of being unseen. Fear of being rejected in the quiet moments.

I thought I needed stimulation, constant fixing, endless analysis. But what I really needed—what I still need—is space. To breathe. To be. Without performance.

Now, I’m learning to tune into the valid needs. The ones that don’t scream, but whisper. The ones that don’t demand, but deserve.

I need connection that meets me, not performs for me.

I need freedom—not from others, but from the parts of myself that shame me.

I need love that respects me, even when I’m quiet.

I need meaning that isn’t measured by output, productivity, or applause.

And maybe you do too.

False needs are loud. True needs are honest.

And when I confuse the two, I end up chasing things that were never meant to hold me.

But when I get quiet, I remember: I don’t need to be special. I need to be real. I don’t need to fix myself. I need to come home to myself. I don’t need to be right. I need to feel safe enough to be wrong sometimes.

That’s where life begins again.