I Don’t Like Compliments?

I’ve always known that flattery or as Nigerians like to call it ‘wash’ makes me uncomfortable for the most part. Anytime I would hear ‘fine girl’ or “your body is nice” I would cringe on the inside or start feeling a sense of awkwardness that I couldn’t explain. I only just concluded this year that I indeed hate compliments for a number reasons but I’ll narrow it down to 3 main ones.

1) Compliments are boring. Like conversation fillers. Like overly rehearsed lines.

How many times have you said “you are gorgeous”? How many girls have you successfully cajoled into your arms with such empty statements? Do you ever get bored of throwing the same compliments up in the air? Because I get bored of hearing the same lines. What happened to originality and personalisation?

2) Compliments are awkward. Now bear in mind, this is coming from an overthinker/overanalyser.

I had someone indirectly tell me my smile was beautiful once. Now I half fancied this brilliant young man so I took a minute to soak up that compliment although a part of me was relieved it didn’t happen face to face. ‘Why?’ You may ask. Well, with compliments like ‘you have a nice smile’, it’s tricky deciding how to act afterwards. Like I said above, I am an overthinker/analyser in most situations. I’d begin to move cautiously. Trying not to smile too much after that incase it seems like that one flimsy piece of flattery suddenly made me fall more in love with my smile. Or perhaps I want to show said person more of this smile that is apparently beautiful. I would also move cautiously because I don’t want to unknowingly stop myself from smiling at the same time – I’m going to attempt to explain this better.
If someone said they liked my dress, I’d probably never wear it around them so it wouldn’t seem like I’m only wearing it because they liked it. Same goes with not smiling when people compliment my smile. So smiling now becomes something I do consciously.
Like I said before, an overthinker and an overanalyser.

3) Is that all that there is to me?

I think I’m smart. Actually, I think I’m absolutely brilliant. I also think I have wit. I think I’m funny if I may dare say so myself. I believe I am great company because I can hold amazing conversations and I’m quite an interesting individual. I also think I’m beautiful, not because my facial features compliment each other or because my silhouette somehow attracts these wild predators but because I am fucking amazing. Because I look for the best in people and I am not quick to condemn. Because I aim to put a smile on people’s faces and I am an epitome of love in itself. Because I care and I feel and I help to uplift, to empower, to ascertain..confidence and hope and will power and growth. So don’t you dare look at me and choose to ignore all that I am by settling for something as fickle as ‘you have a nice bum’.

With all this said, I blush and wallow in all forms of flattery being dished out from the mouths of the men that I fancy. I guess that makes me a hypocrite.

A.

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