People are not content with merely being alive. They want to exist — to be felt, seen, remembered. This desire shows up everywhere: in the need for attention, in the creation of art, in social media posts, in names carved into tree trunks. Existing, in this deeper sense, is not just about physical presence. It’s about psychological and social acknowledgment. It’s about feeling real through the eyes of others.
At the heart of this drive is a deep human truth: existence feels fragile without recognition. When no one notices, people feel invisible. To be invisible is to question your value, your impact, your reality. So people look for confirmation. They seek attention, praise, reactions, or even resistance — anything that proves, “I am here.”
This is why reminders matter. People frame their diplomas, revisit old texts, save voicemail messages from loved ones. They return to places where they were once celebrated or felt alive. These are not trivial acts. They are rituals of re-existence — ways to reconnect with the version of the self that once mattered, that once received light.
Attention, then, becomes a form of nourishment. Just as the body needs food, the identity needs reinforcement. Without it, there is a quiet hunger. This hunger explains why people share so much online, why they chase status symbols, or why they attach to causes, groups, or movements. Each of these becomes a mirror that reflects the self back with shape and meaning.
Yet this hunger is not always vain. It can be the fuel behind great contributions. Artists, thinkers, leaders — many of them are driven by a need to not disappear. They want to leave something behind that lasts longer than their body does. They want to ripple through time. They want to matter.
The modern world intensifies this drive. With constant visibility now possible, the pressure to exist fully and frequently grows. People compare levels of attention like status points. A post with no likes stings not because of the post itself, but because it whispers, “You might not matter as much as you thought.”
Still, there’s power in recognizing this drive without shame. The desire to exist fully is not weakness. It’s part of being human. It speaks to a longing for meaning, for connection, for permanence in a world where everything passes. At its best, it motivates people to create, to love, to reach out — not just to be seen, but to be felt.
To exist is not just to survive. It is to echo. And everyone, in their own way, is looking for a way to echo just a little longer.
