A Sign of Good Parenting: Your Child Doesn’t Want to Be Famous
- Priyanka Sinha
- Jun 8
- 3 min read
Fame, Ego, and the Psychoanalysis of Being Seen
Fame is the great mirage of modern life, a glittering promise of immortality in a world terrified of insignificance. To be known by many, even if not loved by any, has become a cultural virtue. But from the lens of psychoanalysis—and, more broadly, philosophy, fame reveals itself not as a desire in itself, but as a symptom of something older, more wounded, more unconscious.
Fame as the Echo of an Unmirrored Self
A child who wasn’t deeply seen—whose feelings were ignored, whose curiosity was neglected, whose worth was made conditional—grows up with a psychic hunger.
Fame becomes a fantasy of mass mirroring. The audience becomes the mother. The applause becomes the father’s praise. The followers, the tribe that never left.
From Freud’s early theories of the ego and unconscious drives, to Winnicott’s idea of the false self, we learn this: when the original wound is not tended to, the adult endlessly searches for external scaffolding to hold up a crumbling inner world. The craving for fame is the craving to be finally “recognized” after a lifetime of feeling invisible.
The Cult of Visibility and the Fear of Nothingness
The philosopher Kierkegaard spoke of despair not as sadness, but as “not being oneself.” And what is fame, if not the desperate attempt to construct a self out of what the crowd wants?
Psychoanalysis suggests that such a self is fragile—a patchwork of projections, defense mechanisms, and ego-ideals. Lacan’s “mirror stage” is no longer just a developmental milestone but a cultural phenomenon: we live in the mirror now. Social media is a house of reflections—some flattering, some cruel—and yet none truly real.
Fame, then, is the promise that “if enough people see me, I will finally exist.” But to need to be seen to feel real is already to be lost.
Parenting as the Antidote to the Spectacle
In contrast, a child raised with attuned presence—where their emotions are not judged, their imagination not ridiculed, their boundaries not violated—develops a sense of self that does not need to advertise itself. Such a child can bear the unbearable idea that they might live and die without ever being known by millions—and feel no lack.
They do not want to be famous. They want to be free. And perhaps that’s the highest outcome of parenting: to raise someone who is not seduced by illusions.
Why the Absence of Fame Hunger Matters
A child who does not wish to be famous:
Has found value in the quiet richness of existence
Does not seek to become an image, but to become a self
Has felt real enough in the eyes of their caregivers to not need to “perform” that reality for others
In psychoanalytic terms, they are less ruled by the ideal ego (who they think they should be) and more integrated with the ego ideal—the deeper compass that holds meaning, even in anonymity.
In Praise of the Unfamous Life
Philosophy reminds us that to live well is not to be seen but to be whole. Psychoanalysis reminds us that wholeness is not perfection—it is integration.
So if your child grows up not wanting to be on a stage, not craving applause, not feeling panic at being unknown—do not worry. You may have given them the rarest gift of all: the ability to live without needing to be witnessed.
In a culture obsessed with being known, anonymity has become a sign of psychological health.
And that is why one measure of good parenting may be this: You’ve raised a child who does not need to be famous to feel alive.



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