We’ve created a world where we push away what makes us most human. Emotions are dismissed as inconvenient. Vulnerability is twisted into weakness. Detachment from others is glorified. Independence has become a badge of honour, as if needing no one is the ultimate measure of success.
Cultural messages drum it into us: stand on your own two feet, don’t depend on anyone, and never let your doubts or anxieties show. Admitting you have needs feels like breaking some unspoken rule. Words like “needy” or “dependent” have been weaponised and turned into insults, making us shrink from even acknowledging what we long for. Seeking attention is framed as a moral failing. Looking for reassurance is treated like a relationship killer.
But we aren’t wired to go through life alone. From the moment we’re born, we need care, connection, and attention to survive. And while we grow more self-reliant as we age, the need for connection and dependency never really goes away. Today, “self-love” is often celebrated, almost as if it’s a solitary path to fulfilment. But to feel valued, we need love, recognition, attention, and the presence of others. Our wellbeing depends on noticing and accepting our needs, desires, anxieties, and insecurities without shame while also remaining attuned to the needs of the people we love.
Why, then, do we stigmatise what’s natural? I’m not talking about unhealthy extremes, like needing constant reassurance through repeated questions such as, “Do you still care about me?” or obsessively analysing a partner’s every action for signs of affection. I’m talking about the ordinary, human moments when we seek reassurance, share our insecurities, or simply crave someone’s attention. Occasionally asking, “Do you still love me?” or “Do you miss me?” is a natural part of connection and should be normalised. These acts remind us of our humanity—and yet they’re judged so harshly.
Social media has amplified the problem by glorifying “secure attachment” and framing any anxiety in relationships as a personal flaw. Influencers peddle the myth that only the perfectly self-sufficient and confident deserve love. As a result, people second-guess their natural needs and emotions. They start hiding the little things—the desire for closeness, the worry when someone pulls away, or the longing for reassurance.
We hesitate to express vulnerability, fearing judgment for wanting closeness. Instead of saying, “I miss you” or “I need your attention and presence,” we play it cool. We put on a show of self-sufficiency. Over time, the message sinks in: needing others makes you less worthy, less secure; you’ve got to be seen strong. Eventually, phrases like, "I shouldn’t miss him," or "I shouldn’t ask for attention," become our own self-judgments. We feel guilty for having needs and ashamed for wanting some reassurance. as we begin to see our natural feelings as something to be ashamed of.
But research shows the opposite. To be satisfied in close relationships, we should meet each other’s basic psychological needs like connection and autonomy. When these needs are met, we feel safe enough to express our vulnerabilities and show up authentically.
Besides, as countless studies have confirmed, secure attachment—the confidence that others will respond to our needs and support us—is essential for fulfilling relationships. But secure attachment doesn’t mean eliminating all needs or insecurities. Instead, it’s about trusting that your needs are valid and can be met, and feeling safe enough to express them without fear of rejection or judgment. Making peace with our own (and others’) neediness is at the heart of human relationships.
Philosopher Martha Nussbaum beautifully describes humanity as a fragile plant—not an unyielding jewel. She reminds us that fragility isn’t something to fear, hide, or overcome; it’s a core part of who we are. To admit and to express our neediness is courageous. Exposing ourselves is an act of trust that strengthens our bonds with others. Good personhood, Nussbaum says, requires embracing our insecure and vulnerable nature.
Similarly, seeking attention isn’t selfish or shameful. It’s a way of saying, “I want to be seen. I want to matter to you.” Think about a child on the edge of a diving board, shouting, “Watch me!” before they leap into the water. That plea for recognition is an invitation to witness their bravery. And we don’t grow out of this need. Adults seek attention all the time—in conversations, through art and literature, on social media, or in the ways we share pieces of ourselves with others. We’re still saying, “Do you see me? Does this resonate with you?”
As psychoanalyst Adam Phillips suggests:
We need to wonder, then, why we would ever want to accuse anyone of being attention-seeking. Attention-seeking is one of the best things we do, even when we have the worst ways of doing it.
Research even shows that reassurance-seeking can act as a form of relationship maintenance by encouraging partners to take actions that enhance communication and connection. When met with care and understanding, attention-seeking isn’t harmful—it can strengthen bonds.
Of course, not every attempt to seek attention or reassurance is helpful. Constantly checking whether your partner has returned your message and spiralling into anxiety about their love or loyalty when they don’t respond quickly, or overanalysing a colleague’s tone in an email, worrying they’re upset with you, and seeking their approval to feel secure—these are not the healthiest ways to express your needs and may signal deeper insecurities. But we must separate extreme patterns from the natural desire for closeness and recognition—because that desire is normal and necessary.
What I’m advocating for is releasing the shame surrounding our needs—both our own and those of others—and our needy, insecure nature, while distinguishing between healthy expressions of needs. Healthy relationships require emotional maturity. We need to recognise that no one person can meet all our needs and learn to fulfil some of them independently or in other connections. Relationships also depend reciprocity: when there’s a balance of giving and receiving—not just in what we ask for, but in what we offer.
So, what would it take to build relationships where we can ask for attention or reassurance without hesitation? Those where we can share our insecurities without fear of judgment?
Can we normalise the truth that we all have needs? That it’s okay to feel unsure or to long for closeness and attention?
Our needs are proof of our deep care and desire to connect.
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This resonates so much with me and it's something I've been wrestling with for a while, in terms of trying not to feel 'too vulnerable' as I've equated that feeling with weakness and anxiety. I read recently that we have to experience co-regulation when we're born as a way of learning to self regulate as we grow up, yet we revere independence so much. A really thoughtful and thought provoking piece, thank you 😊 🙏
Another well written piece that resonates with me deeply. I am learning how to acknowledge my needs and communicate them. Growing up, I would bury my needs deep down just to earn the acceptance and approval of everyone in my life. It took me a long time to realize that the freedom I was seeking was not just a freedom of expressing my opinions but also my needs.