"I can live for two months on a good compliment."

(Mark Twain)

What do you do when someone pays you a compliment?

I, for one, respond reflexively with the first self-minimising, this-really-isn’t-that-special retort that comes to mind. Nice shoes? On sale from a mid tier brand. Great work? Oh well, I could’ve done more. You liked my muffins? I had to throw out the first batch.

Reading others’ emotions isn’t exactly a strong suit of abuse survivors due to psychological trauma impairing the same brain areas and functions that support emotional intelligence more broadly. So it took me a while to figure out that my default reaction to compliments tends to leave the author of the flattering observation somewhat befuddled, and therefore must contradict an implicit expectation that I’d react differently.

But how, I wondered?? What was this secret other way of feeling when people said nice things to your face? It was my turn to feel confused.

Research has repeatedly found that interpersonal trauma, i.e. overwhelming harm caused by another person, has a negative impact on self-identity across the life span. Survivors of childhood abuse and neglect build a fragile and mostly negative sense of self. This shows up in everyday life in innumerable ways. Random examples include difficulty being voluble when talking about oneself, uncertainty when it comes to one’s strengths and preferences, or awkwardness when praised even in circumstances where one’s rational brain accepts the plaudit as entirely appropriate.

Not my actual muffins. Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash

Thankfully, the solution to the compliment gaucherie is simple. Say nothing (or ‘thank you’). Smile. Feel awkward if you must, but keep it to yourself. Let yourself be valued.

Let others like you.

And after some practice, you begin to rate your own muffins. They’re fluffy, sweet and wholesome, and that’s a job well done.

Thanks for tuning in,

Adina