the art of accepting compliments

Girl looking embarrassed, hiding behind hat

Receiving compliments is not a comfortable experience for me. Because I’m self-employed I have to fly the flag for my work – it is the mark of my “brand” (ugh, please forgive my brief lapse into marketing speak; it won’t happen again) and of my value. Because my work is published on the reg, it’s out there for people to comment on. Thankfully, they seldom do – I don’t receive a lot of feedback, and I’m happy with that. But on the rare occasion someone – generally within the industry, as readers don’t usually correspond unless they want to complain – proffers a compliment on a piece of mine, there’s a part of me that dissolves into cringe mode. 

I used to work with someone who would greet any compliment with a look of faint disgust. Her response was to tell you all the things that she regarded as being wrong with her story, and all the ways she should/could/would have improved it. It was almost like a slap in the face for the person giving the compliment – basically she was saying: ‘your opinion is uninformed and irrelevant, so keep it to yourself’. In her effort not to appear arrogant (FYI being proud of your work is not arrogant!) by deflecting the compliment, she came off as haughty and a little precious. Of course, it’s perfectly healthy to be self-critical – how else will you hone your craft if you can’t see the areas in need of improvement? – but to pour your personal dissatisfaction onto someone who just wanted to say something nice seems somewhat disrespectful. I understand that humility is important but I don’t think discrediting the opinion of someone who had good intentions is very fair.

Person walking around art gallery

My response to compliments is much less petulant. Over the years I’ve learned to disregard my discomfort and simply say: ‘thank you, I really appreciate your feedback’. I might not share their affection for the piece, but that’s OK. It’s taken some time to figure out how to separate my feelings about my work from the feelings of others. Even if I’m profoundly disappointed in the way I’ve executed a brief, if someone with no vested interest in that story enjoyed reading it, that’s awesome. I’ll take that. My work is, after all, for other people to read. It’s not some grand monument to hang in the Eternal Gallery of Trudie. 

Despite knowing this, whenever I receive a compliment I feel a small part of myself squirm. Partly this is because I’m shy so I don’t particularly enjoy being singled out in any way. Having attention drawn to something that bears my name – and by extension, drawing attention to myself – is an awkward experience. I much prefer to blend into the background. Unfortunately my work as a healer requires me to stand out.

The cringe factor also comes back to shaky self-esteem – which, I’m happy to report, is increasingly less shaky the more I work on my personal development. I’m better at actively challenging any message I tell myself along the lines of ‘you don’t deserve... ’ It’s harder for me to believe self-deprecating messages than it was in the past; they don't stick like they used to. That doesn’t mean I embrace compliments, but it means I don’t automatically reject them either. It’s a good sign that I am learning – finally – to value myself and my abilities. 

The times they are a-changing.