I always hesitate before complimenting people. It’s not because my compliments are fake (I find it pointless to make people feel good if I don’t mean it), but because I don’t know how the person would interpret my words.
Would they take the compliment as insincere flattery? I don’t give compliments out too often, so they’ve probably heard the compliment before. Would it still mean something to them?
Would they feel confined or even offended? I compliment some of my friends on their looks or specific aspects of their personalities; however, the last thing I want is for them to narrow themselves down to my description. I don’t want my pretty friend to think that she’s just a pretty face. I don’t want my friend who draws amazingly well to believe that drawing is all she’s good at. I don’t want them to limit themselves like that.
I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. For the longest time, any compliment I received was related to academics. For the longest time, I prided myself in that; I pushed myself to hear more of them. I loved them.
They took over my life.
It’s like obsessively wallpapering one’s own room and accidentally covering all the doors and windows. I get caught up on it and then realize that I’m boxed in–trapped. I focused so much on grades and test scores (because that was apparently the only thing my peers and family liked about me) that I neglected other parts of myself: the artist who began walking at age 5, only to be shoved down at age 6, and didn’t learned to stand back up till age 11; the flower girl who loved spending time outside but stopped because it meant doing less work; the social butterfly who enjoyed interacting with others but lost her wings because her peers only showed up for “help” on homework.
Luckily, like wallpaper, my…obsession with compliments can be controlled gradually. I still appreciate a kind word or two, but I try not to let it define me. I try not not to succumb to labels, and to extent, that’s what a compliment is: a label–one that highlights one or two features and neglects the rest.
I want people to see Pauline. I want people to see me for all that I am. I want people to see others for all they are, too.
That’s why I hestitate to compliment others. I don’t want them to go through what I did, but at the same time, I want them to know that they’re appreciated. It’s weird.
This post probably makes no sense at this point, but it felt good writing it. Back to studying for math.
