Compliment me on just about anything and I’ll be able to deflect it with some sort of deprecating comment faster than you can say “I like your…”
“I like your shirt!” Oh man, it’s so old… and I’m pretty sure I got it on a clearance rack.
“Your hair looks nice like that.” Thanks, I haven’t washed it in, like, actually four days.
When my colleague told me I looked nice, I told her how overtired I was. When another said they loved my outfit, I exclaimed I’d barely had time to get dressed. Both things were true, but neither was necessary. Saying thank you is easy. Why is accepting a compliment so hard?
Why is accepting a compliment so hard?
Is it my own insecurities ruining a kind word for me, or do is it because I don’t think it’s a big deal?
I’m not even sure I realized I was doing it until the day I told a colleague I really liked something she was wearing, and she immediately shut it down. And, perhaps weirdly, it actually made me feel badly: it’s discouraging when you’re trying to be nice to someone who isn’t being nice to him or herself.
I don’t have to agree with the compliment.
I don’t have to love how my hair looks. I don’t need to think it’s the prettiest shirt. I don’t even need to feel good.
But I can say thank you.
I can appreciate someone’s kindness.
I can be bigger than that nagging voice that wants to say “… but ….”