We usually think of social withdrawal as a response to cruelty. People retreat because they have been hurt, mocked, rejected. Camus describes something more subtle and more difficult to explain. He withdrew not from people who thought poorly of him but from people who thought too well of him.

Being overestimated by the people who care about you is a peculiar kind of prison. You cannot correct their image without seeming falsely modest. You cannot live up to it without performing. And every day you spend accepting praise you have not earned, you move a little further from the person you actually are.

This is a form of dishonesty that most people never notice because it feels good. Being admired is pleasant. Being thought better than you are is flattering. But Camus recognized that comfort built on a false foundation is a kind of lie, and he would rather be alone with the truth than surrounded by people who loved a version of him that did not exist.

The question is not whether the people around you like you. It is whether they like someone you actually recognize.