The Needy Pit: How to Give Ourselves What We Want From Others

I was drinking iced coffee with my colleague, Larry Shushansky, at an outdoor cafe recently one afternoon. We were discussing what the kids mean when they describe someone as “thirsty”—someone they follow on social media is grasping for attention by posting something provocative. As psychologists, of course we knew the endless search for likes or shares wasn’t going to boost anyone’s self-esteem in the long run or make them feel like they belong. And yet we had to admit that we, too, still sought to satisfy the desire for approval and validation. We may not be using photographic filters to make ourselves thinner and more beautiful but we were thirsty in our own way.

It was right around that time when we came up with a new term for this seemingly bottomless yearning, “the needy pit,” that a firetruck came screaming down the small, cobblestone street adjacent to the coffee shop, with its sirens blaring. There was no traffic in any direction, and in a residential section of the city there seemed to be no need to be that loud given the immediate situation. Larry turned to me and mouthed over the deafening the wail: Needy Pit!..

Where does this need to be noticed, this need for praise, come from? Needy sounds pejorative, but it accurately describes the yearning or emptiness that exists somewhere in all of us.

“See me.”

“Tell me I’m special.”

“Give me credit.”

“Laugh at my jokes.”

“Let me know I’m okay.”

“Look at me!"

Is this neediness innate, or does it stem from what we didn’t get as children? Or is both: As human beings we have an existential need to know we exist, which is exacerbated in turn by some variety of neglect or trauma we have encountered such as growing up under the same roof with a narcissistic or addicted parent.

In my twenty-five years as a psychologist, I have seen many manifestations of the needy pit—in fact, the existence of the needy pit may be what causes people to go to therapy in the first place. Many of us just didn’t get the mirroring we needed growing up, or we received too much attention, so that it inhibited our ability to move on, to individuate, and live our own lives.

It isn’t a guarantee that accurately reflecting a child’s expressed thoughts and feelings will lead them to a lifetime of self-acceptance and self-awareness, but such mirroring can’t hurt. If that was not available, the therapist can provide a set of training wheels, as it were, that steadies our clients before they are able to ride off into the sunset and mirror themselves as adults appropriately.

In the meantime, the needy pit can wreak all hinds of havoc—especially in interpersonal dynamics. Larry, my coffee partner I mentioned above, is an expert in working with couples. In his book, Independent Enough: A Book About Relationships, he describes how a bottomless needy pit can quickly turn into fear. When we initially relate to another, we glimpse the possibility of being loved, cared for, and acknowledged; we feel genuinely connected to another person. But what happens if that person has other things to take care of in the moment, or other aspects of themselves they are working on, and you lose your source for a while? Many people are unable to handle that and the fear that arises leads to fighting, drinking or even having affairs trying to fill this void until we recognize the struggle is in ourselves.

That is the place — perhaps the only place — where the needy pit can be filled. When we spend time alone, it can be more conducive to allowing ourselves to feel all of our feelings. When we make a conscious effort to limit our time on social media it becomes easier to catch ourselves every time we compare ourselves to others. When we do something creative with that time instead, such as reading, writing, or traveling, we can experience joy in a way that feels intrinsic to our being. This isn’t to say that activities like enjoying our partners, kids or pets aren’t restorative experiences — they are, but they don’t stop us from obsessing over why we aren’t being properly noticed by this or that person. Nothing can do that until we realize that our own approval is the only kind of approval that matters.

Experiencing our own level of need is frightening — it can lead to feeling anxious or depressed, but it doesn’t have to. We aren’t needy all the time, and we can look to our prouder moments for cues how to shore ourselves up. Sometimes we can be strong, and that strength, somewhat paradoxically allows us to relax into the innocence of just being ourselves. We are enough — more than enough, to determine our own direction, explore areas of genuine interest, and take care of our own needs on both the psychological and the physical levels.

In those moments, we might acknowledge the fear of being alone — allow ourselves to feel the discomfort, but then take the time we need to center ourselves and provide ourselves with the assurance we are seeking. When we can do this—when we can hear our own sirens of need blaring—we don’t have to fall apart. Instead, we can continue our own healthy development by filling in the needy pit with belief in ourselves.