Ever since I came across this line in a book, I’ve been watching for it everywhere. “Validation is for parking.” Only for parking? I started listening for all the times it comes up. For me, for others. All the instances looking externally for reassurance, for confidence, for validation. From the parent, the child, the spouse, the sibling. From the best friend, the boss, the neighbor, the stranger. The acknowledgment I wanted to hear, the compliment, the kudos. The approval, the comfort, the celebration. The likes, the love. Could it all be my own to give out? Whatever I wished was said by others, could be said by me, to me.
Validation - no one else’s authority to administer or ability to assign; simply, powerfully - my own. Valid comes out of hiding now as Insecure takes his leave. She’s greeted by Self-Soothing and Confidence. Hugged by Hope and Optimism. The party I’ve always wanted to attend. The invite I didn’t realize mine to send.
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