We all deny it. We laugh it off, roll our eyes, pretend we’re immune. But the truth is simpler and uglier: everyone checks.

The likes. The views. The comments. The tiny digital crumbs that tell us whether anyone is paying attention.

We cloak it in excuses. “I just want to see if people are engaging.” “I’m checking for feedback.” But underneath the jargon is a much smaller, much rawer need: do I matter to anyone outside my own head?

Social media has perfected this trick. It dangles recognition in numbers, reducing human worth to a scoreboard. And even the ones who swear they’re above it, who write long threads about how “real creators don’t care about validation,” are the first to refresh the stats the moment they hit publish.

You do it too. Don’t lie.

The dangerous part isn’t the checking—it’s the pretending. When we deny that these numbers affect us, we give them even more power. They run our moods in the background. They quietly decide whether today feels successful or wasted. One viral post can trick us into thinking we’re geniuses. One flop convinces us we’re failures.

And here’s the kicker: most of the time, the numbers don’t even mean what we think they do. The algorithm burps, or a random share sends traffic our way, or a platform decides to bury a post for no reason. Yet we measure our self-worth against this chaos as if it were gospel.

The healthier move is to admit it. Say it out loud: yes, I check. Yes, I care. Yes, it makes me feel something. Once it’s in the open, it loses its teeth. You can still notice the numbers, still appreciate them, but without pretending they define you.

Because everyone pretends they don’t do this.
But you do.
I do.
We all do.

The trick is learning to care without letting it own you.