When you become truly honest with yourself and constantly ask, "What is the real purpose behind my actions?", you might come to a startling realization: even when you do things for others, you're often doing them for yourself.
Let me explain.
I've always considered myself a helpful person. That good feeling when someone turns to me and I immediately jump in to help—it's exhilarating. ‘Oh, someone needs me! Someone thinks I can help!’
But lately, I've been questioning that rush.
Is it pure altruism, or is it an expression of seeking external validation of my worth?
Turns out, it's a bit of both.
Because of this need for validation, I often find myself in relationships where I'm constantly solving others' problems. I help and make myself constantly available to feel worthy and needed.
I compensate for my own mistakes by being excessively attentive. I'm quick to comfort someone feeling down, finding all possible ways to make them feel better—not just for their sake, but because their suffering makes me uncomfortable. I'd rather see them happy so they can, in turn, give me energy.
All of this? Ego games.
It's a tough pill to swallow.
By always being the "fixer," I was actually avoiding confronting my own insecurities. I was using others to fill a void within myself, masking it as generosity and kindness.
But here's the thing: true selflessness doesn't seek anything in return—not even a boost to our self-esteem.
These past two weeks have been a deep dive into understanding my motives. I've started to recognize when I'm acting out of genuine compassion versus when I'm seeking validation.
And you know what? It's liberating.
By being honest about my intentions, I'm learning to give without expectations, help without acknowledgment, and let others navigate their own journeys without me trying to steer the ship.
So, how much of what we do for others is actually for ourselves?
Maybe more than we'd like to admit.
But acknowledging this isn't a failure; it's an opportunity for growth.
By stripping away the ego games, we can build more authentic relationships—both with others and ourselves.
Beutifully True Quincey!