Are you someone who can accept compliments? If so, you are a rare jewel.

Since October 2019, I have stopped coloring my hair. It’s neither a statement about some anti-establishment view of chemicals and cancer, nor an invitation for others to join in my journey. I simply decided that it didn’t feel “like me” to continue dyeing my hair. So I stopped.

This caused some of my friends (and even my 79 year old mother) to get very defensive about their own hair. From comments like “it looks good on you, but I could never do that” to my mother’s statement “I’m going to my grave with a color, wash and set”, it has provoked some pretty strong feelings. It also has received some unsolicited compliments, especially from strangers.

I recently went into a CVS and the woman behind the register said, “your hair looks so cool!” Interestingly enough, I found myself replying, “oh, well, just another excuse to leave the house quicker.” I discounted the compliment by excusing it away. Which, in retrospect, makes me think of all the ways I have expertly refused to accept a compliment.

The most frequent way is by deflecting. This happens to me especially after performing in a play, when I am coming out to greet the audience. Someone will say, “you did a great job,” to which I will say something like, “if only I could actually get all the words out” or “you should have seen it last night. It was so much better”. How rude, Lee! It actually is technically an insult to the complimenter. I’m currently reading David Mamet’s True and False, and this act of deflecting, according to him, is possibly the most selfish thing a performer can do. And, you know, he isn’t really wrong.

Why is it so difficult to accept a compliment? Why is it so inherent to our nature to find any response to one other than a simple “thank you.”? I’ve tried to just be grateful, but the closest I get is to reciprocate and compliment the other person. Say, my sister-in-law comes to my house for dinner, and compliments my chicken dish. My response would be “well, it’s nothing compared to your amazing roast chicken.”

We make such an effort to dance around the gratitude that others gift to us, that we should all have the metabolism of a hummingbird. And yet, what does this say about our fragile psyche that we are so willing to shower others will praise, yet refuse to absorb, let alone accept, others expressions of gratitude towards us?

I’m going to try to really hear a compliment when it is gifted to me, and look the person in the eyes, smile, and simply respond, “Thank you”.