by Kerry Schafer
Have you ever noticed that receiving compliments can be hard?
Doling them out can be easy. All you have to do is get out of your own head long enough to notice things about people, and then honestly tell them what you’ve noticed.
“Hey, that dress is fabulous on you. Awesome meal, you’re an amazing cook. I really am blown away by the way you navigate your job and home life with so much grace. Love what you’ve done with this place.”
See? Easy. Receiving compliments is another story altogether. A lot of us feel uncomfortable on the other side of praise. Just for fun, answer the following questions honestly and note the response types that are true for you.
A friend or acquaintance (or total stranger, we’re not picky) bestows some honest and heartfelt praise upon you. Something along the lines of, “Fantastic job on pulling off (insert accomplishment here).”
What is your response?
“Oh, it was nothing.” (Minimizing your accomplishment, even though the thing you did was a lot of work and required talent and skill.)
“What about you? And that amazing thing you did…” (Deflection and reciprocation. Remember, when it comes to compliments, it really does feel better to give than to receive.)
“Thank you.” (But said with reservation, while internally wondering why this person is buttering you up and what they’re going to want in exchange.)
“Thank you, it’s true.” (Genuinely receiving the compliment and acknowledging the truth of it.)
Small disclaimer: if you have ever in your life responded to a compliment with, “Thank you, it’s true,” this article is not for you. Take your beautifully-evolved, healthy self off elsewhere and leave this conversation to the rest of us messed-up mortals. Everybody else, stick around for a minute, because I have a feeling that our discomfort with compliments is a symptom of something a little deeper that would be helpful to take a look at.
Undervaluing our accomplishments and downplaying our abilities or even our personal appearance isn’t actually healthy. It’s categorized as a learned behavior, and maybe one we’d be wise to unlearn.
Have you ever noticed how little kids will chatter about the picture they drew, a story they made up, being smart, how good they are at cartwheels, or how fast they can run? They’re not being prideful or boastful. Just delightfully taking pleasure in being good at something.
Until well-meaning parents and teachers start worrying that they’re getting too big for their britches and make a point of bringing them down a few pegs. Hands up if you’ve heard any of the following (or maybe said them yourself a time or two):
Pretty is as pretty does.
Pride goeth before a fall.
He sure has a good opinion of himself.
Don’t toot your own horn.
As kids, this is confusing. In one breath, we’re told that lying is bad, and in the same breath we’re taught to pretend we’re not proud of the things we are actually proud of. We feel the duality and the wrongness of it, but we want to please. So, we pretend that we don’t know if we are physically attractive. We pretend that we’re not smart, talented, or exceptionally good at sports, music, art, business, or whatever. And the more we pretend, the more we begin to believe the lie is true. And after a while, that belief in the lie goes underground and lives there, unconscious and unseen, nibbling away at the roots of our self-esteem and what we are capable of accomplishing.
As a result, we doubt our own self-worth. We don’t believe we deserve the good job, the raise, the time to ourselves. We’re not worthy of the promotion, the attractive partner, the book deal, the art show, or the award. We make ourselves smaller. We self-sabotage.
We lose the ability to speak clearly and honestly about our own accomplishments.
I watched this go down in real time the other day while my co-hosts and I were recording an episode of the “One Happy Thing” podcast. Our guest asked Maddie Dawson a question that was a clear invitation to highlight one of Maddie’s books, Let’s Pretend This Will Work. And I watched, fascinated, as Maddie brushed right past a promotional moment big enough to drive a bus through. When I asked her about it later, she wasn’t even aware of what she’d done.
Which brings us, finally, to the concept of “Thank you, it’s true.”
Recently, I was talking to some friends when the problem with accepting compliments came up. “We should practice,” Linda said.
My immediate reaction was that of a deer caught in the headlights. Clearly, the woman had lost her ever-loving mind. It was highly tempting to make excuses and run off early, but I decided to stick around and play.
Linda proceeded to give me a compliment. The thing she said was actually something that I believe to be true. But to look her in the eye and actually respond with, “Thank you, it’s true?”
Every socially conditioned fiber of my being started screaming, “Uh-uh. No how. No way.”
But you know what? I did it. And then I did it again. And it felt kind of amazing to let myself believe that Linda meant what she said. And to admit that maybe I was actually good at this thing.
Here’s your mission, should you choose to accept it. For the next week, every time somebody offers you a compliment – on an achievement, a skill, a natural ability, and yes, even your appearance – respond with, “Thank you, it’s true.” You get a free pass to say the, “it’s true” part internally, just to yourself if you prefer. But practice actually letting yourself receive the compliment as truth.
No deflecting. No minimizing. No offering a reciprocal compliment instead.
It’s going to feel uncomfortable at first. But I bet it’s a skill we can grow into over time. And who knows? Maybe our self-esteem will grow right along with it.
Colville resident Kerry Schafer (who also writes as Kerry Anne King) is the bestselling author of 15 novels, the co-host of “The One Happy Thing” Podcast, and a licensed mental health counselor. Find out more at allthingskerry.com.
