Squirm?

[mrissa]

[Poll #1168961]

Comments

[buymeaclue.livejournal.com]

I clickied a bunch of clickies, but would like to double-click "those you have heard too many times before[ from that person]" and "effusive." That is, compliments are good, and nice to hear, and I'm happy to receive them if I can say, "Thank you," and then we can move promptly along to another topic. It's dwelling that really makes me uncomfortable.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Ahh! So if twenty different people who have not overheard each other say, "My, what a lovely elbow you have, buymeaclue!", then this is much less uncomfortable than if the same person keeps bringing up the charms of your elbow, and/or won't drop them once brought up? This makes sense to me, if I've got it right.

[haddayr.livejournal.com]

Well, well, well I am obviously a lot more Midwestern than snurri would claim. It appears that the best bet for anyone is to never compliment me for anything.

Never affirm me, either. But that's just because it's annoying.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

You are absolutely right to feel that way, and I like the way you asserted your feelings and opinions there. What a generally good comment-writer you are.

[atdt1991.livejournal.com]

I'm pretty much okay with all sorts of compliments, so long as they are, to some extent, true.

However, that does depend on the person. Some people just have a way of making you feel uncomfortable, and honestly I take compliments from strangers better than from people who just do it awkwardly or make a big deal out of it.

Being complimentary isn't just about the person being complimented. It's also about the person complimenting, and is a sort of ritual amongst people, as well. I try to remember that, and have some sympathy for the way the complimenter is, I guess, extending themselves a little.

Alternately, I am -very- careful with the way in which I compliment people.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Yah, I think sympathy for people of goodwill who are attempting to be nice is good when I can manage it. I can't always manage it, though; some people are really bad at compliments, and some compliments are really alarming.

[mmerriam.livejournal.com]

Any complaint ever directed at me tends to illicit discomfort in me. I'm generally good at hiding it, and am socialized well enough (if I learned nothing from grandparents, it was to be polite) that I can graciously accept it from the person who is sincere in that compliment at that moment.

But the hard truth is, there is something deep in me that is quite sure I nevereverevernever deserve to be complimented about anything, that I am not worth being compliment, no matter the situation. Ever.

[brooksmoses]

I don't mean this pedantically, but I find it interesting that you miswrote "compliment" as "complaint" there. It would be particularly interesting if I believed in Freudian slips!

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I don't need to tickybox: I'm English. All compliments are unbearable, all the time, for ever.

The art of accepting compliments gracefully is not taught in this country; I have no idea where to begin. My default position is to interrupt as soon as I know it's coming, and so awkwardly deflect the conversation somewhere else. Usually into the bumpers.

Which is not to say that I don't like praise; I'm a writer, I crave it. Just, not in person! On the internets I can toss a practised "Aw, shucks" around, perhaps "I'm glad you liked it", and that's that. Meanwhile, I huggle the praise to myself and live off it for weeks. But in the too too solid flesh? I want to melt, and can't.

[akirlu.livejournal.com]

Oh, but if you're English, surely you could lapse into charming self-deprecation? That seems like a peculiarly English form of deflection, and somehow generally doesn't come out pathetic or self-pitying, as it can when an American does it.

[kizmet-42.livejournal.com]

I'm hypertypically Midwestern - all compliments are acceptable because I don't want to embarrass those who have given them.

Whether I believe them or not is entirely another matter.

[eposia.livejournal.com]

I really rarely suffer from embarrassment, and I'm mostly in agreement with atdt1991's comment. Most compliments don't bother me; I usually try to consider the thoughts and feelings of the person giving the compliment when considering such issues; and sometimes you get a creepy vibe even with surface pleasantness that I tend to intuitively trust when I notice such a feeling. Not that I lock into my first perceptions--but I will look more closely at, and usually take longer to warm up to, people around whom I get uncomfortable vibes. I've noticed that awkwardness in communication often triggers such feelings for me.

Interesting poll, thanks for the weighty thoughts first thing in the morning! Good way to start my day.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I have gotten into more unpleasant situations by not trusting my instincts than anything else.

[bradipo.livejournal.com]

I've found compliments have gotten easier to handle as I've gotten older. I can now handle almost anything intended as a compliment with a simple "Thank you!"

The only things that are still hard are:

1) Compliments that are repeated or expanded upon after I've said "Thank you," leaving me in the position of having to say, "Wow! Really? Thanks again!" (And after that, I'm really pretty much stuck just smiling bashfully as best I can in the face of further repetitions.)

2) Compliments that are make me out to be something I really despise. (This actually happens very rarely (at least, to me), but I've had racist and sexist comments phrased in the form of a compliment to me, which is upsetting.)

As a youth I often worried that compliments were intended in a mocking fashion, but that never bugs me any more. Perhaps because the sort of people I associate with are less likely to do so, but also because I've found it very effective to treat the mockingly-intended compliments as if sincere.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Practicing with, "Thank you!" is good for the soul, I feel.

The "youth" thing is exactly why I bring this up: I've been thinking about "surviving high school," because someone asked me to write about it, and because I'm doing career day at a local high school next week, and Lord have mercy on us all, high school was terrible for mocking compliments and sarcastic compliments and compliments that were intended to be cruel about someone else present and compliments that implicitly put down the complimenter and...yikes.

[pameladean]

It depends on who is delivering the compliment. Some people, including but not limited to my partners, can really say whatever they like in that department, and I may think they're a little dotey, but I'll like it. Who is around to overhear also makes a huge difference to whether a compliment embarrasses me -- or, well, to whether the situation as a whole embarrasses me.

That said, many compliments that I am very happy to hear and cherish afterwards make me act as if I were embarrassed.

Since I was born and raised in the Midwest, something somewhere obviously didn't take properly. Or wait -- maybe it did.

P.

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

Context makes a huge difference; personal compliments at work are more likely to be embarrassing, for instance. So are too many from the same person and so are ones that just don't make sense. The most bothered I've ever been by compliments was from a coworker who hit a perfect trifecta.

He decided that he would make the world a nicer place by complimenting everyone he dealt with regularly once a day. I finally had to ask him to stop, as politely as I could manage. I did manage not to use the word "creepy", but I certainly thought it. Most memorable exchange:
Him: "Nice earrings".
Me: "Thanks." (They were - intricate and colorful traditional beadwork.)
Him: "Very unusual. Where did you find them?"
Me: "I got them from Pueblo to People*, and they were made by Huichol Indians."
Him: "Oh. Do you like Indians?"

How on earth do you answer that? (*Pueblo to People: sadly now defunct. Mail order business that sold very cool crafts made by people in mostly very poor areas and returned something like 75% of all income back to the crafters.)

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

"Err. As much as I like anybody else, I suppose," is how I probably would have reacted to that last bit of horror.

[brooksmoses]

The one that really gets me is "You're so smart!"

This is in large part because, in high school, the same people who said it to me also said to suzimoses, "But he's so smart! How can you talk to him?"

This is also because there were a number of otherwise entirely intelligent people who said things like, "But you're so much smarter than I am," in cases such as when I mentioned that I found it helpful to ask our English teacher to proofread my science-fair paper. And that was the undertone to most of how people said that compliment, those days.

I still feel a bit triggery in that direction, though mostly these days what annoys me isn't the part about me, but the part about quite intelligent people I like selling themselves short. (Which is actually the main focus of what I hear these days, I guess -- people saying, "I'm kind of dumb about this" when they're not.)

[writingortyping.livejournal.com]

Oooh - definitely agree. Any compliment that is simultaneously phrased as a put-down* to the person giving the compliment is REALLY awful.

*or its evil corollary - the compliment that is phrased as bait: if you don't return the compliment ("Oh - but what are you saying? You're so smart too!") you're obliquely putting the complimenter down.

[rysmiel.livejournal.com]

The ones that really kind of get to me are where someone compliments me on what they perceive as acts of extraordinary kindness or generosity on my behalf, when from my perspective I have just been running basic default "civilised human being" mode. It makes me want to find whoever has been responsible for teaching the person in question standards such that basic civilised behaviour strikes them as extraordinary kindness and generosity, and hurt them in interesting ways.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Well, I always have appreciated the way you don't kick my teeth in. I feel that's vital in a friendship.

[reveritas.livejournal.com]

the only kind i don't like is "nice tits! nice ass!"

and that goes along with the "heard too many times from the same person" thing. i do not actually mind if someone compliments my body -- but there's one dude in particular who can't hold a conversation with me without complimenting it. i guess i don't like compliments, even sincere, that make me feel like someone (other than the obvious)'s lust object.

How do you know if they're just being nice?

[miz-hatbox.livejournal.com]

I hate compliments that I don't trust to be objectively true. I'll accept them gracefully enough (I think), but the problem is that objective reality is a slippery thing.

For example, imagine that Aunt Anne compliments me on my jacket, and I am already unsure whether the jacket looks good on me. Is Aunt Anne complimenting me "to be nice," or because she thinks I saw her looking at it, and she doesn't want me to think she's been staring at it in disgust? Or what if Aunt Mabel really seems to like the jacket, but I know that everyone secretly hates Aunt Mabel's taste in clothes? If Aunt Mabel likes it, does that mean I should throw it straight in the trash heap?

I was worse about this sort of thing when I was in my 20s. I remember once reading something that essentially said that truly skillful makeup application means that you look like you have no makeup on, but still you look better than you did without the makeup. And the next day at work, someone complimented me on my eyeshadow. And I felt really self-conscious: was she truly complimenting me on my skillful application? But if she could tell I was wearing eyeshadow, did that mean I was wearing too much? I truly couldn't concentrate on my work until I'd wiped off every bit of that eyeshadow. And then I worried that she might notice that I'd wiped it off and interpret it as rejecting her compliment.

And the other thing that makes me feel uncomfortable is if someone compliments me in front of someone who doesn't share the attribute being praised. Like the time that friend A praised my curly-ish hair in front of mutual friend B who has straight, sleek hair. I appreciated the compliment but it was hard not to feel like friend A had slammed friend B, just a little.

[netmouse.livejournal.com]

I think whether or not compliments make me uncomfortable has more to do with how they are delivered. If the person is clearly feeling envious, I'm often uncomfortable. If they seem to be trying to come onto me in a way that requires some discouraging feedback from me, I'm uncomfortable. I guess basically it's the situation more than the specific topic of the complement that affects things.

[columbina.livejournal.com]

All compliments have a non-zero chance of making me uncomfortable; I have limited myself only to selections which have a better than fifty percent chance of doing so.

I dislike compliments which I feel I don't deserve, which includes the very popular check-offs "mistaken premise" and "trivial action," as well as the popular "conclusion I disagree with" ... which in turn implies certain other categories, such as, if you compliment me on any aspect of my looks, I will be biting my tongue to suppress my urge to give you the name of a good opthalmologist.

[athenais.livejournal.com]

Good heavens. I had no idea so many people were allergic to compliments! I like them, and I can't think of any sincere compliments that make me uncomfortable.

I also enjoy complimenting others, and I'm a little hurt when a sincere compliment is deflected in an anxious or denigrating way because the complimentee can't stand hearing something nice about themselves. What am I supposed to say? "Sorry I ruined your self-image by liking you?" Obviously I say nothing at all, but jeez.

[akirlu.livejournal.com]

Well, a lot of us do not have your Mighty Self Image, :). But I think there's also a lot of bad currency out there in terms of compliments, such that compliments get kind of a bad rap. Not everyone is good at spotting sincerity.

Years ago I had the following exchange with a friend of mine:

He: Hey, Ulrika, what a great dress! You look fabulous!

Me: Gosh, thanks for the compliment!

He: You know I never give compliments. I was sincere.

*blink*

Obviously, in his mind, compliments are always something said pro forma, rather than sincerely, so if you pass on a positive evaluation to someone else, it must be something other than a compliment. I don't know how common that attitude is, but it's out there.

Also, I think a lot of us are trained that we mustn't put ourselves forward or appear proud or whatever, and so deflect compliments reflexively. It takes conscious re-training to learn to just say, "thank you."

Me, I find that one of my besetting sins, when someone compliments an item of clothing, is the compulsion to tell where I got it and for how little, because to me the real triumph lies in finding the cool thing for *cheap*. I have to remind myself that not everyone cares to know the history of my victories at Value Village and eBay.

[writingortyping.livejournal.com]

Also, on the "effusive" side of things, there is a species of effusiveness that comes off as condescension. I knit and spin. Yes I've put some time and effort into those activities, and yes I'm proud of some of the things I created. But I have one colleague whose every (well-meaning, to be sure) compliment about my hobbies sets my teeth on edge.

On spinning my own yarn, "Oooh - AuROra!" (What does that even mean? Am I doomed to live in Disney animations because of my archaic hobby?)

On a lace stole I was wearing, "Oh - that's so amazing!!! You could do that full time!"

"Actually, no, I couldn't."

"Oh - you're too modest, you totally could!!!"

(File that also under "mistaken premise." Take just about any knitted object - let alone a complicated piece of lace, set a reasonable MSRP, divide by the hours it took to create, and then try and tell me with a straight face that it could reasonably be a full-time job).

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I think teenagers get this a lot: "you're good at x" translates to "you should have a career in x." Sigh. No.

[pentacon.livejournal.com]

You missed the one:

Based on something you know darn well is not true, but wish it was.

[aedifica]

Do you often get that sort of comment? I'm curious what the subject of such compliments would be. But I'm aware that that could be a personal subject, so feel free not to answer.

And by the way, hi! I haven't seen you in a while.

[callunav.livejournal.com]

The thing is, you provide all the right contingencies, but singly, whereas what I really need are double or even triple contingencies. For instance, I am likely to be uncomfortable when complimented...


...By a close friend or family member based on a mistaken premise.

...By someone I don't know very well on any aspect of my body (as opposed to jewelry or clothing but including hair).

...Effusively about something I didn't work hard on or care very much about.

...In a large group or impersonal setting about something I feel strongly about.

...One-to-one by a close friend or family member about something I don't care about.


And so forth.

Also, there are compliments which make me feel faintly scornful, and do not in any way achieve the desired intent, but which do not make me feel embarrassed or uncomfortable.

[marydell.livejournal.com]

Any compliment relating to the more vulnerable side of my personality makes me feel...vulnerable.

[redbird]

Things that make me feel odd: compliments that seem to be based on a massive misreading of the universe. (For example, if someone were to compliment my spoken French, I would conclude that they either were trying to flatter me, or knew little or nothing about the subject--my vocabulary is minimally workable, my grammar minimal, and my accent problematic. I get by, but it's because native speakers are good at hearing their language. Or, possibly, that this was code for "thanks for being willing to make an effort, and for asking, in French, whether I speak English rather than assuming everyone on the planet does.")

Also, praise for things that really do seem either like something everyone does--anything that feels like "Oh, redbird, how delightful of you to breathe oxygen!"--or like basic minimal decency such that it might be appropriate to praise in a five-year-old, especially one's own child, but not from one adult to another. That's the difference between someone remarking on my picking up trash a third person left--which is worthy of praise, though doesn't demand it--and praising me for not throwing my own empty snack wrapper on the ground.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I have to say that the way you breathe oxygen makes it far easier for me to get to some cons in common with you, and therefore is appreciated, but...not high on the list, let's say.

[adrian-turtle.livejournal.com]

There are compliments I don't like because giving them seems to presume a level of intimacy I really don't want to have with the speaker. I'm uncomfortable with the speaker even pretending to have that level of intimacy with me. That includes comments about sexual attractiveness, from strangers, near-strangers, distant relatives, or people with whom I was trying to have a professional relationship. It's not that I don't want the person complimenting me...I don't want him or her complimenting me in that direction.

The other kind of compliment that makes me uncomfortable fits in the category of "those with whose essential conclusion I disagree," in a way. The one I heard most often was, "You've lost so much weight! Congratulations, you look wonderful." I had, inarguably, lost a lot of weight. And so much of beauty is in the eye of the beholder that one really can't argue with somebody who regards a fashionable figure as more attractive than thick dark hair, or clear skin, or bright eyes. My discomfort was not with the claim that I had lost weight, but with the idea that slenderness is intrinsically beautiful and admirable. It's a hard situation, because the person offering the compliment isn't even aware of saying something fraught or controversial. (It's not like deflecting a compliment about "christian charity" or "that's awfully white of you," where one only has to do a little remedial consciousness-raising.) I can swallow the discomfort, or spread it around a little, but I can't really get rid of it.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

The weight loss thing is pathological enough in this culture that when illness sent me from my usual weight within what the doctors consider normal into the range they consider underweight, and I was constantly tired and shaky and had dark circles under my eyes and could never get warm -- even then, people considered it obligatory to compliment me because lost weight was good, right? Right?

Sigh.

[mkille.livejournal.com]

I don't think I get bothered by compliments much per se. I do get embarrassed and uncomfortable when somebody is focusing attention on me instead of on me within the general surroundings, whatever the content of the attention.

So, sticking with compliments, "You have great eyes!" on its own feels weird, but "Have you noticed that so many people are wearing sunglasses so you can't see their eyes? Hey, you have great eyes!" doesn't, and "Those eyes are pretty, those are kind of odd, those are ordinary, but yours are great" doesn't, and [compliment as a conversational followup to somebody else being complimented about something] doesn't. (With usual disclaimers about how if the surrounding bits are clearly just to provide cover for the compliment, it's still weird).

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Yes, elaborate cover bad, offhand noticing good.

Possible TMI

[eileenlufkin.livejournal.com]

This doesn't happen very often, but when I think about being embarrassed by compliments what comes to mind is the way I have embarrassed myself when my inner emotional reaction to a complement is too strong. It's not that the complement itself is anything to be embarrassed about; it's noticing the needy part of my part of my brain that wants to say "You really like me! Tell me more! Say more nice things about me! Go into detail! Please!"

Re: Possible TMI

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Do you ever do the lj memes where people offer to tell you what they like about you if you leave a comment, or does that fall into a similar category of brain reaction?