Thank You

Hard words to simply say?  Hard words to simply take in?

Yes.  Yes, they are.

I'm not the greatest at taking compliments, or so I’ve been told.  Why I can’t just say “thank you" and move on is beyond me.  It always turns into a self-deprecating comment or a weird look on my face (but, really, that’s just my face). I'm just not comfortable with it - like, why are you saying that to me?  What are you getting at?  Why does my hair look great today, did it not yesterday?  Why are you noticing these things about me so much that you must comment about them? Stop looking at me. 

I'm trying to trace this back, and figure out what’s what and why and I think it's because I’m not used to these kinds of surface compliments.  I just wasn't raised this way.  Sure, my parents were supportive and loving and THERE but they didn't really fawn all over my brother and I on matters that they felt were secondary or frivolous  Come to think of it, some important stuff wasn’t really wow worthy either:  good marks in school?  Uh, yeah, that's your job OF COURSE you got good marks in school.  Student Council?  Drama Club?  Fine, fine, Olga - have some fun, but really, just study and be a good person and stop being so stubborn, okay?  I often joke that if we told our parents we won a Noble Peace Prize, Pulitzer or Oscar they'd shrug and say, "that's nice, now go to work / make your bed".  It's not that they didn't care – I never felt they didn’t - but in the grand scheme of their lives and their own childhoods they felt they should be supportive in real, non-verbal over the top ways.  This is the way I like it.  This is what I'm used to.  It was absolutely quality over quantity as the compliments I did get deeply resonated – I may as well have won the Noble Peace Prize, Pulitzer AND Oscar! 

Here’s a sample of Constantopoulos Compliments 101:  it’s a known fact that my initial forays in the kitchen were quite disastrous but I kept plugging away until one day my Dad ate something I cooked (not baked, that was never in question) and said “Olga, you’re improving.”.  It was like the skies had opened up and real live angels were singing the most harmonious melody – I was improving!  He saw some progress and recognized my effort.  These three words were so encouraging and soft and did just what they were intended to do:  give me the confidence to get better.  To know I could get better.  I know this is a weird sort of compliment, but really, isn’t this the best sort of compliment?  It’s a statement on your effort, your ability and your determination.  These things are real.  I never felt unworthy or low or un-anything not being fussed over all the time.  I knew I wasn’t a major life disappointment to my parents, teenage rebellion years and all, and they didn’t need to tell me how great I was all the time. Who needs that?  It’s overkill.  And let me tell you, I have come to realize that this is some pretty valuable real life prep.  As adults, in real life situations, who hovers all over you with gold stars and never ending compliments?  Not too many people.  I wonder about kids who are over-coddled and over-encouraged and over-complimented.  Future needy nightmares.  I must sound like a cold-hearted automaton but you know I’m not.  I didn't grow up in some military regime or anything.  It’s about balance, of course.  And knowing your audience, of course.  Sure, some people need it to get them through a hump or challenge, my brother and I typically didn't. I’m really not sure how this chicken/egg thing totally works out, but we turned out just fine not being over-anything’d. 

The whole notion of compliments is now obviously scewed for me.  I know you’re trying to be nice and attentive so I will try my best to simply smile and just say thank you when you compliment something on the superficial.  This is the social norm.  I know I’m not really the social norm on this whole compliment business.  I get it.  I’m trying.  I can adapt.  Don’t try to take me down a road of pseudo-analysis if you say you like my top and I go into a long monologue about how I think it’s completely ugly but the top I wanted to wear is at the dry cleaners.  Please, just don’t.  These are really the worst type of compliments for me. Like, who cares about my top, my hair, my jacket?  Again, stop looking at me. 

I’m getting better.  Just this week I was filled with a warm and fuzzy that took me back to the “Olga, you’re improving” days.  It was after a night of Improv at Wheel and complete strangers came up to me and with real compliments after my performance.  I was shocked, of course.  And surprised, of course.  And I said thank you.  Not ‘oh, really?, you thought so?, I think I totally sucked’.  NO.  I said “Thank you, and thank you for saying so it means a lot to me.” And, you know what, it totally does.  Doing something scary (and I’m always terrified to go up on stage – especially on Monday, doing an entire Improv scene in the style of Tennessee Williams) and putting yourself out on ledge and having it work out and then hearing those compliments made me think that yes, I can do this thing and I want to do more and get even better.  It’s the same with this little blog.  It’s recognizing effort and ability and perhaps making a connection.  I completely appreciate and almost welcome compliments on these things because they encourage me to keep going.  They encourage me to keep wanting to be terrified.  They encourage me to want to do more. 

So go for it.  Pay me compliment.  Make me better.  I will thank you.