Some years ago, I was very unaware of how thirsty I was for approval. I needed people to validate me, and that made me a perfect target for manipulation. When I received praise, attention, or was told how great I was, it felt like a powerful hook. But as soon as it faded away, I felt crushed. I fought to get it back, chasing their validation like it was oxygen.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that life had a better plan. Through the pain of being ignored, criticized, or rejected, I was being taught not to look for approval outside of myself, but to value myself more deeply. To stop needing love from others in order to feel whole.

The same lesson came to me again and again, in different forms — through work, through relationships, through people who mirrored back my insecurities. Until finally, I could consciously see it, and start choosing myself.

I found myself in situations where praise was given like bait, designed to keep me working harder or giving more. When that didn’t work, guilt was used to pull me in: “If you don’t help, you’re selfish. If you say no, you’re ungrateful.” And for a long time, I believed it. I overworked. I overgave. I carried burdens that weren’t mine to carry.

But then something shifted. The moment I stood my ground, the old tactics stopped working. Every strategy was thrown at me — admiration, blame, threats, intimidation. Yet none of it could move me anymore. I realized that no one could take my power unless I handed it over.

Life mirrored the same lesson in my relationship. I supported my partner emotionally and financially, convinced it was my responsibility to carry his path. But when I began living independently within the relationship, I discovered something profound: silence can be more powerful than words. If someone dominates by talking, silence becomes a shield they can’t control. And slowly, I stopped playing the game.

Looking back, I see these weren’t punishments. They were lessons. Pain was showing me where I was abandoning myself. Rejection was redirecting me inward. Criticism was inviting me to stop seeking worth outside of myself and to nurture the value within.

The Subtle Lessons of Attention

Even after I chose myself and broke free from toxic patterns, the universe sent me another teacher. This time, it wasn’t through manipulation, but through attention.

I met someone whose energy pulled me strongly, and synchronicities kept appearing around him. At first, I resisted. I procrastinated on embracing the connection because I felt nervous—my old need to “perform” was still there. Instead of expressing my desires freely, I froze.

When I had his attention, I felt loved. When the attention was taken away, I felt pain. When he stopped giving it, I felt rejection. When I saw him with others, I felt jealousy. I would even go to events secretly hoping to cross paths with him, just to get a moment of his attention.

Until one day—I realized I didn’t need it anymore.

He came into my life not to fulfill me, but to bring light to the subtle ways my ego was still expressing. To show me that even in the absence of manipulation, I could still project my worth outward and cling to someone’s gaze as if it defined me. His presence was a mirror, reminding me again and again that true love and wholeness come from within.

The Other Side of the Story

There is another truth I’ve come to realize: when we have been manipulated in life, we often end up manipulating others too — without even realizing it. For me, it usually happened when I was desperate for approval. I gave endlessly, hoping people would notice. I stayed quiet about my true feelings, expecting others to guess. I acted in ways that weren’t authentic, just to be praised or accepted. In short, I tried to manage how people saw me, instead of simply being myself.

Manipulation doesn’t always look like control or aggression. Sometimes it hides in subtle ways — in over-giving, in guilt, in playing small, in trying to perform. At its root, it’s always the same: an attempt to get love, validation, or safety from outside of ourselves.

The freedom comes when we see this clearly. When we can ask ourselves: Am I acting from truth, or from a need for reaction? Am I giving because I want to, or because I hope for approval in return?

When we begin to nurture ourselves from within — through self-love, boundaries, and presence — the need to manipulate naturally fades. We don’t have to manage people’s perception of us anymore. We don’t have to fight for their attention. We can simply be who we are, whole and complete.

Choosing Self-Love

Freedom and sovereignty come when we know our own value and feel whole. Until we heal those insecurities, we keep attracting the same situations again and again, until the lesson is finally learned.

If you find yourself caught in similar patterns, I invite you to reflect:

  • Where are you giving your power away in exchange for approval?
  • What are you looking for externally that you could begin giving yourself?
  • How could the pain you feel — when ignored, criticized, or dismissed — actually be guiding you back to yourself?

What helped me on this journey was journaling, spending time in nature, solitude, and meditation. These were the spaces where I stopped running, sat with myself, and began to discover that I was already enough.

Sometimes, the most radical act of love is not sacrifice, but the courage to say no—and the deeper courage to say yes to yourself. That is where freedom begins.