The Risk of Living for Applause

From the time I could walk, I loved being the center of attention—dancing for family, climbing on furniture, or doing anything to make people notice. As I got older, I found subtler ways: reading early impressed my teachers, and joke books kept me stocked with punchlines to make classmates laugh. Praise became fuel, and the more I got, the better I felt about myself.

That’s why, at eight years old, I was outraged when my first competitive baseball team stuck me in centerfield—so far from home plate I could barely hear the applause.

A few games in, an opposing batter hit a high fly ball to right-center. I sprinted toward it, while my teammate in right field tossed his hat in the air, oblivious. Instinct kicked in—I dove, tumbled, and when I looked in my glove, the ball was there. Parents whistled and cheered as I held it up. Suddenly, I loved playing centerfield.

For the rest of the season, I dove for everything. My teammates called me “Hollywood” for making ordinary plays look dramatic.

But I noticed a pattern: I only felt good after games when I’d made a big catch or hit a home run. Winning didn’t matter—applause did. Soon that carried into the rest of my life. If there was no audience, I often wasn’t interested. My mood, actions, and motivation hinged on the recognition I might get.

Relying on external praise for internal validation is a dangerous road. It dead-ends in a cul-de-sac of anxiety, unmet expectations, and disappointment.

The truth I eventually had to face is that applause always fades. And when it does, the urge to chase more can become endless. It’s like nitrous oxide in a race car—great for a burst of speed, but useless for the whole trip. Real endurance comes from internal validation—the diesel fuel that keeps you going long after the NOS burns out.

As I grew up, teammates got taller, faster, stronger, and someone else took my place in centerfield. The applause stopped. Without it, I had no outside voices telling me I was successful.

It’s a question I still wrestle with: When the applause dies out, how will you know you’re successful?

Fact

Psychologists call it the hedonic treadmill: external rewards and validation give us a temporary boost, but the effect quickly fades, leaving us chasing the next dose of approval.

Action

At the end of the day, write down three things you did well that no one else saw or celebrated.

Question

When someone praises you, instead of only soaking in the compliment, ask yourself: Would I still be proud if no one noticed?

Quote

“Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner.” — Lao Tzu