Compliment
When I was young, I hated compliments. Hated. Mostly they were about how pretty they thought something I was wearing, or my name. As though I had anything to do about that. Even smarts, since that also seemed like nothing I had any control over. I expected scholarly awards like most people expect a paycheck - with as much joy and elation - which is to say, none.
Praise for when I really worked hard on a project was thin on the ground. Never got thanked for holding a worklight for my angry father in the garage in the winter, the hardest, coldest, job I did.* Strangely, it's very like what I do for a living, keeping the lights in the right place, handing over the proper tools, skills I work at doing well, and usually, at least at the end of the day, I get at least a passing thankyou.†
When D is the primary on a project, often involving wires, I am the one holding the flashlight and handing tools, pulling tiss... um, things aside as needed.‡ Some pride to be taken in doing this well. The exact task I was shouted at for doing as well as I could as a child. As though, well, now I can do it, and someone appreciates it. D always thanks me. Profusely.
Taking compliments from him was no easier, not at first. The first time he said "you're wonderful!" I nearly ran away. But he's kept saying it all these years, and I just have to accept that he means it, and after all, he's always right (and he never lies.) Huge problem for me for a long time.
On the other hand, he gently stopped me from calling myself stupid, or any of the other bad terms I used on myself. Made him sad to hear me tear myself down, so I stopped doing it out loud, and eventually, mostly, stopped inside my own head as well. About when I started saying "I've had a bad-nurse-day" rather than that I was a "bad nurse." Like having a "stupid moment" rather than "I'm stupid." Slight change of tone, but important. Taught me to love all of us, including me. Became less judgmental in general. In the last few years, to simply not blame, anyone, including me.
Learning to accept praise, when sincere, or even when pro forma, is essential. When to say "thank you" with neither belief nor disbelief, when to accept it as true and pleasurable - and a guidance to future actions. Much harder than it looks. Raw material, to be made into something useful.
*Until I had to clean oil heaters in November in New Jersey in Basic - the coldest, dirtiest, most unpleasant job ever, especially when hungry. And by the time we got to the chow hall, there was very little food left. Miserable evening, even in that context. To date, the worst job ever.
†Surgeons will usually thank the staff in the room at the end of the day. It's a courtesy, sometimes, when it's been a rough day that's gone long, they seem to really mean it.
‡Holding retractors for surgery is more delicate than holding up a plug attached to wires, but there is analogy.
Praise for when I really worked hard on a project was thin on the ground. Never got thanked for holding a worklight for my angry father in the garage in the winter, the hardest, coldest, job I did.* Strangely, it's very like what I do for a living, keeping the lights in the right place, handing over the proper tools, skills I work at doing well, and usually, at least at the end of the day, I get at least a passing thankyou.†
When D is the primary on a project, often involving wires, I am the one holding the flashlight and handing tools, pulling tiss... um, things aside as needed.‡ Some pride to be taken in doing this well. The exact task I was shouted at for doing as well as I could as a child. As though, well, now I can do it, and someone appreciates it. D always thanks me. Profusely.
Taking compliments from him was no easier, not at first. The first time he said "you're wonderful!" I nearly ran away. But he's kept saying it all these years, and I just have to accept that he means it, and after all, he's always right (and he never lies.) Huge problem for me for a long time.
On the other hand, he gently stopped me from calling myself stupid, or any of the other bad terms I used on myself. Made him sad to hear me tear myself down, so I stopped doing it out loud, and eventually, mostly, stopped inside my own head as well. About when I started saying "I've had a bad-nurse-day" rather than that I was a "bad nurse." Like having a "stupid moment" rather than "I'm stupid." Slight change of tone, but important. Taught me to love all of us, including me. Became less judgmental in general. In the last few years, to simply not blame, anyone, including me.
Learning to accept praise, when sincere, or even when pro forma, is essential. When to say "thank you" with neither belief nor disbelief, when to accept it as true and pleasurable - and a guidance to future actions. Much harder than it looks. Raw material, to be made into something useful.
*Until I had to clean oil heaters in November in New Jersey in Basic - the coldest, dirtiest, most unpleasant job ever, especially when hungry. And by the time we got to the chow hall, there was very little food left. Miserable evening, even in that context. To date, the worst job ever.
†Surgeons will usually thank the staff in the room at the end of the day. It's a courtesy, sometimes, when it's been a rough day that's gone long, they seem to really mean it.
‡Holding retractors for surgery is more delicate than holding up a plug attached to wires, but there is analogy.
Posted by Zhoen on Monday, September 03, 2012
3 comments:
I still struggle with any sort of praise or compliment........aww, shucks!
Generally if someone gives me praise or a compliment I simply say 'thank you'.
When giving such, that is all I expect.
Good to read you, Zhoen.
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