Tell Me I'm Pretty
Her Perspective By Sharla Gorder
I went out on a limb — and it splintered and cracked. I’m still hanging on but not feeling terribly secure up here.
It all started in the checkout line at Publix when I was accosted by a magazine cover.
“Find Your Purpose! Discover Your Superpowers! Live Authentically!” it shouted at me. I couldn’t resist. I’m such a sucker for self-improvement magazines and books. I actually do the exercises — and to great effect. Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way” inspired my first book. James Clear’s “Atomic Habits” provided the framework for my second.
Maybe Oprah’s “Live Your Best Life Special Edition” would inspire my third — or something equally satisfying.
The very first exercise in the magazine was a toughie. I balked when I read the instructions. But one thing I’ve learned (from Julia Cameron, actually) is that the exercises I absolutely don’t want to do are the very ones that could benefit me the most.
As a way to pinpoint personal skills, talents and passions, the directions recommend “polling the audience.” My mission, should I choose to accept it, was to ask five people I trust where they think I really shine, the premise being that perhaps others see strengths in me that I’m not aware of. Maybe I could build on them.
Still, blatantly asking someone to compliment me is an awkward thing to do — tantamount to saying “Tell me I’m pretty.”
So, I decided to start with someone I feel really comfortable with, the friend with whom I spend the most time. A couple of times a week, we go for a 45-minute walk around the neighborhood, chatting all the while. We have many similar interests, and we have vacationed together. She knows me pretty well.
So, I asked her.
Crickets…
Then, embarrassed and backpedaling furiously, I equivocated, “I know it might seem weird for me to be asking you to compliment me…”
She replied, “It shouldn’t be; you compliment me all the time.”
And I do.
There is so much to compliment. She has so many great qualities. Don’t get me started.
Still, crickets…
Ouch.
But it got me thinking. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that my friend loves and values me. Her actions (if not her words) confirm her affection for me.
So what’s up with all those crickets? And why should I care?
I figured it out when I asked the next two people on my list — yes, I’m a glutton for punishment. While they both were able to answer the question, they each expressed extreme discomfort with the concept of compliments — especially in receiving them, saying, “I hate to be complimented.” (And why would you impose that awkwardness on someone else?)
Hmmm. This sounded suspiciously familiar. I have said the same thing myself. I thought I was being humble. Turns out I was just being a complicated human.
So often, compliments conflict with our own self-image. We are an insecure species and often don’t see the beautiful truths about ourselves. This “cognitive dissonance,” coupled with societal pressure to appear humble, really makes us squirm when praised.
But the truth is this: Just because we say we “don’t like to be complimented” doesn’t mean we don’t like the compliments themselves. We love them. And from an evolutionary perspective, on a primal level, we actually need them. We are powerfully driven to “belong.” We need to have confidence that we are a respected, contributing member of our clan — because to be cast out means certain death. Positive feedback from people we respect is life-affirming.
I have long practiced the fine art of seeing the good in people, and I’m not shy about sharing my findings with them. I’m also getting better at accepting compliments myself without deflecting.
So, go on, tell me I’m pretty.
I can handle it.
