Nowadays, it’s easy to confuse performance for identity. You show up, do the work, and exceed expectations. You post, smile, deliver, struggle to stay consistent even when it seems difficult. And then one day, you pause to reflect because you’re not sure who you are when the notifications stop buzzing, when you’re not being praised, and when you’re not needed.

Many of us were raised in systems that rewarded performance and perfection over presence. In many homes, love was often synonymous with obedience, achievement, and contribution. Your worth was tied to how well you could behave, provide or succeed.

And so, you learnt to earn affection. You became excellent at reading rooms, adjusting and showing up as who people needed you to be. But that is a skill and it slowly erodes your sense of self because when you’re always performing, you lose track of who you are behind the curtain and underneath the applause.

Perhaps, you happen to be the girl who always shows up, the guy who always gets it done or the friend who never says no, but what happens when you’re tired? When you want to be held, not hired? When you want to be loved, not liked? That is when you realize just how lonely performing can be.

We’ve been conditioned to believe we need to be seen to be valuable and that quiet seasons mean you’re falling behind. That rest is laziness, and if you’re not posting, you’re not relevant. But real transformation often happens in silence. 

Healing is messy, but not marketable and truthfully, authenticity is rarely loud. There’s power in obscurity, in not having all the answers, in letting go of the urge to document every moment just to prove you’re still doing something worthwhile.

Here comes the real question. Who are you when you’re not producing? When you’re not the reliable one? When you’re not being clapped for? When no one is reposting you, and no spotlight is shining? Who are you when you’re alone with your thoughts? With your wounds? With your softness?

Do you love that version of you, the one behind the scenes, the one who doesn’t always win, the one who cries, rests and breaks?

Until you realise that you are fine being you and doing you, and you believe that, every room you walk into will always require a performance. Every relationship will feel like an audition, every day will be a test.

But when you see and accept yourself for who you truly are, you start to trust that you are worthy even in stillness. Then you will see that you deserve a life that doesn’t require constant proof or performance because you are still magic, even when you’re not being seen or applauded.