These days the case of is being discussed Brooklyn Beckhamson David and Victoria Beckham. Brooklyn has chosen to sever relationships with her parents; at the base of the fracture, according to what emerged, there would be a family life built more on appearance than on truth: a narrative of perfection maintained at all costs, even if it did not reflect emotional reality. A life made of image, control and reputation, where what mattered was not so much how one was, but how it looked. Leaving aside the heart of the debate in the gossip columns, it is worth asking ourselves: why should a parent prefer a falsely perfect life to the truth? And, broadening our gaze: why do we feel the need to appear perfect, especially on social media? At the basis of this trend there are several intertwined psychological factors: aself-esteem increasingly fragile and conditioned, a culture that values performance above all, the construction of aidentity which must seem solid and successful, and a deep need for membership that protects us from feeling wrong, inadequate or failure.
Disclaimer: The content of this article in no way represents a psychological analysis of the Beckham family specifically. Its aim is to provide a very general picture of how social dynamics can influence on a psychological level the concepts of appearance, self-esteem, validation and identity of an individual within a social context.
How social media amplifies the value of appearance
The Beckham case has put the spotlight on a dynamic which, in reality, it is much more widespread than it seems. According to Brooklyn’s story, parents would always make it a priority to maintain an impeccable family imageeven at the cost of denying or distorting reality. A perfect facade to defend, a reputation to preserve. The son says he had to adapt to this narrative for a long time, becoming an integral part of it. Until the weight of supporting an image that didn’t feel authentic became unmanageable.
But this dynamic doesn’t just affect famous families. Today parents, adults, teenagers and even children share a general tendency to appear happyunited, fulfilled. This has effects on other social users, who may end up asking themselves: “Why isn’t my life like this too? Why can’t I be happy like them?”, with consequences that can also be very serious.
The desire to appear “fine” it was not born with social networks. Even before, there was a tendency to hide problems, to minimize conflicts, to tell sweeter versions of reality. In short, social media they don’t create the need to appear perfectbut they offer a space in which doing so becomes decidedly easier, as one can select what to publish and how, without many having access to “behind the scenes”. In short, it’s easier to make your life seem like what it isn’t, if you want to.
metric with which to measure appearance. Likes, views, reactions and interactions make the degree of approval received visible, creating a direct link between image and personal value. This mechanism reinforces the idea that appearing perfect may be necessary – or in any case it may be a practical shortcut – to feel recognized and belonging.
Finally, appearing has become so important because it delivers an illusion of control in a context perceived as uncertain. If we can’t really control what happens in our lives, we can at least control how it is told. The image thus becomes a way to contain anxiety, keep vulnerability at a distance and protect yourself from judgement. In this sense, the tyranny of appearance does not arise from the aim of deceiving, but from the fear of not being enough, if seen for what we really are.
The problem of self-esteem
From a psychological point of view, one of the main engines of this dynamic is theself-esteemthat is, the evaluation we give to ourselves, the sense of personal value that accompanies us in daily life.
Ideally it should be based on an internal perception of solidity, independent of the gaze of others. However, it is not uncommon for self-esteem to be built in a conditional way: I am worth it if I get approval, if I perform well, if I receive confirmation. In this context, the image we give of ourselves becomes fundamental to feeling “enough”. Appearing perfect then becomes one compensation strategy: not so much to deceive others, but to protect a self-image already perceived as precarious.
This concept is inevitably linked to that of membership (belongingness), one of the fundamental psychological needs: being accepted means being safe. Thus, social media can become a problem for some acceptance thermometer: appearing fair, successful, without fragility reduces the risk of exclusion, judgment and invisibility. Perfection is not about standing out, but about not being rejected.
In this scenario, likes, comments and views work as micro-doses of external validation. They offer immediate (but temporary) relief, which pushes you to repeat the behavior. Personal value is linked to external feedback. Added to this is the fear of shamea profoundly social emotion. Shame is no longer about what we do, but about what we think we are in the eyes of others. Check the image it means, symbolically, to control judgment. From here arises the illusion that, if the image is perfect, the personal value will also be perfect.
What happens when the ideal of perfection involves children
When the need to appear perfect involves the childrenthe dynamics becomes even more complex and delicate. From a psychological point of view, children are not only experienced as autonomous individuals, but often also as a real one extension of the Self. Their behavior, their success or their difficulties implicitly become one measure of parental value.
In this sense, the child stops being simply “who he is” and becomes what the parent represents in the eyes of others. Showing a fragility (real or perceived), a conflict or suffering of the child can be experienced as a direct threat to one’s self-image: admitting that something isn’t working is equivalent, symbolically, to admitting that you haven’t been good enough, present or adequate enough as parents. When parental identity is strongly linked to the external gaze, the child becomes a continuous confirmation of value: if the child “works”, it means that the parent also “works well”; if the child shows a crack, the entire identity balance falters.
For this reason, in some families, perfection is not so much an educational ideal as a defensive strategy: defending your child’s image becomes defending your own. The perfect narrative does not really protect the child (indeed), but the emotional identity of the parent. Maintaining an impeccable facade at the expense of authenticity therefore becomes a way to avoid contact with feelings of shame, failure or inadequacy.
