Dear Jeyamohan
I have been thinking about something that touches almost every one of us, often without our noticing: recognition.
What is recognition, really? At its simplest, it is the act of being seen—truly seen—by another. It is the acknowledgment that our efforts, our presence, our quiet struggles or our bold achievements have registered in someone else’s awareness. A nod, a word of praise, a promotion, a like, a seat at the table—these are the ordinary forms it takes. Deeper still, recognition is the confirmation that we matter, that our existence has left a mark beyond the private walls of our own mind.
Why, then, do we expect it from others? Because we are social creatures. From the earliest days of childhood we learn that love and belonging often arrive dressed as approval. The parent’s smile, the teacher’s gold star, the friend’s laughter—all teach us that being valued by others feels like safety and significance. Later, society reinforces the lesson: success is measured by titles, applause, and public validation. We begin to believe that our worth is incomplete until it is mirrored back to us. Recognition becomes a kind of emotional currency we spend our lives trying to earn.
Yet there is a quieter truth waiting beneath that hunger. If we design our lives with genuine care—if we shape our days around work that feels meaningful, relationships that are honest, and principles we would stand by even if no one were watching—then external recognition loses much of its power over us. A life that is truly worth living does not require constant applause to justify itself. Its value is self-evident in the quiet satisfaction of a day well spent, in the integrity of choices made when no one is looking, in the slow accumulation of character that no award can create and no slight can erase.
This is not a call to indifference or isolation. Kindness and appreciation from others remain lovely gifts when they arrive. But they need not be the foundation of our peace. When we build a life that we ourselves respect—when our actions align with what we hold to be good and true—we become less dependent on the fluctuating opinions of the world. The need for recognition softens. We can receive it gratefully when it comes, and remain steady when it does not.
In the end, the most reliable recognition is the one we give ourselves: the quiet knowledge that we are living in a way that feels honest and worthwhile. Design that life carefully, and the rest becomes secondary.
Arun Raj
