by Darine Ammache, Clinical Psychologist
We live in a world where it’s often easier to polish the outside than tend to the inside. Many people make sure they are fashionable, presentable, and up to date with the best they can afford. Why is it that the visible matters so much more than the invisible?
Part of the answer lies in how human beings are wired. From the time we are children, we learn to perform for others. Parents, teachers, and society reward us when we meet their expectations. These external influences shape not only our behaviors but also our sense of identity. Over time, we grow accustomed to excelling in the places where people are watching. A new hairstyle or outfit is instantly noticed. A smile of approval comes quickly. But the slow, unseen work of becoming kinder, letting go of bitterness, or confronting a painful memory brings no applause, no Instagram likes, no quick validation.
Working on our internal world requires facing discomfort: the flaws we avoid, the insecurities we bury, the traumas we would rather forget. And yet, those are the very things that define who we are when the lights go out and no one is looking.
The deeper question is: what motivates us when there is no audience? Without parents pushing us to go to school, would we have gone? Without society expecting us to work, would we show up every morning? If no one was watching, would we still choose growth, healing, or kindness?
Psychology tells us that extrinsic motivation (approval, recognition, material gain) fades when the spotlight dims. What remains is intrinsic motivation: the inner drive to grow, to learn, to live in alignment with values that matter only to us. That is where authenticity lives, but it takes courage to embrace it.
And yet, identity doesn’t exist in isolation. We are social beings; much of who we think we are is reflected back to us by others. The absence of that reflection can be unsettling, even disorienting. But it also holds the promise of discovery: the chance to answer, Who am I without my roles, my titles, or my external polish?
The truth is, both sides matter. Appearance, expression, and social presence are not meaningless. But they cannot replace the deeper work of inner growth. A life built only on externals is fragile, swayed by every passing trend or opinion.
So perhaps the real challenge is balance: to care for how we present ourselves to the world, yes, but to also nurture the unseen parts of us that make us whole. To ask ourselves, when the room is empty and the mirrors are gone: Who am I, really?