8 signs someone only likes the attention you give them (and not actually you)

You know that moment when someone lights up at your text, then vanishes once you need something real? When conversations feel like operating a validation vending machine—insert compliment, receive brief acknowledgment, repeat?

Some people don't want you. They want what you provide: an audience, proof they matter. You're not a person but a service. The moment you stop providing, you cease to exist. The hardest part is how well they disguise need as affection.

1. They can't remember your basics

Ask your middle name, job title, hometown—details you've shared repeatedly. Watch them struggle. But they'll recite every compliment you've ever given, archived perfectly.

This isn't forgetfulness. When someone only processes information about themselves, your details don't register as emotionally significant. You're not a person with history; you're a delivery system for admiration.

2. Every conversation circles back to them

Your promotion becomes their career story. Your loss triggers their sad memory. Every topic bridges back to them. You know their entire autobiography; they couldn't describe your week.

This hijacking isn't always narcissism—sometimes it's emotional immaturity. Either way, you exist only as a prompt for their self-exploration. Your experiences aren't heard; they're springboards.

3. They disappear when you stop applauding

Busy for a few days? They go silent for weeks. Miss their event? Radio silence. But return with attention, and they reappear instantly, like nothing happened.

This pattern exposes the transaction. When you're not actively feeding their validation needs, you cease to exist. They don't miss you—they miss your service.

4. Your pain is an inconvenience

Share something difficult, get "that sucks" and a subject change. Or worse—silence until you're entertaining again.

Your struggles disrupt their primary use for you: feeling good about themselves. Processing your humanity would require seeing you as real, and that's too much cognitive effort. They want highlights, not the human.

5. You're their favorite person only with an audience

Alone together? Lukewarm. Add witnesses? Suddenly you're everything. They perform intimacy publicly while barely maintaining it privately.

This shift reveals your true role: social prop. You make them look loved, connected, chosen. When no one's watching, that function evaporates along with their enthusiasm.

6. Praise flows one way

Track your last ten interactions. If compliments look like charity—you giving, them taking—there's your answer. They absorb praise endlessly, return nothing.

This isn't oversight. People who value you celebrate you. When you're just attention supply, your wins go unnoticed because noticing would shift focus from where they need it: themselves.

7. Your boundaries are forgettable, your compliments are permanent

They quote nice things you said months ago but repeatedly cross lines you've clearly drawn. Comfort zones: forgotten. Admiration: archived forever.

This selective memory shows priorities. Boundaries require respecting you as separate, with needs. But if you're just an attention dispenser, your needs are system errors to ignore.

8. They vanish when the tables turn

Need support? Ask for help? Require reciprocation? Watch them develop instant scheduling conflicts, emotional unavailability, or crises that prevent giving back.

This isn't coincidence—it's clarity. The relationship was never mutual but extractive. The moment it required giving rather than taking, it stopped serving its purpose. You weren't in a relationship; you were an unwitting service provider.

Final thoughts

The cruel thing about being someone's validation machine is how much it mimics love. Their intensity when you appear, their excitement at your attention—it feels like mattering. But you're being consumed, not cherished.

Real connection is reciprocal. It remembers your struggles alongside your middle name. It shows up when you're boring or broken. It gives as much as it takes. When someone actually values you—not just your attention—you don't have to constantly perform your worth. You can exist, tired and distracted and empty-handed, and still be worthy of time.

If you recognize these patterns, the answer isn't to give better attention. It's to recognize you're not a rehabilitation center for someone's ego. You deserve relationships where you're a person, not a service. Where your attention is appreciated, not just consumed. Where you matter even when you have nothing left to give. The people who only want your applause will move on to other audiences. The ones who want you will stay.