The Good Life: Learning to take a compliment!

In her column this week, Gemma Good struggles to take a compliment!

I cannot take a compliment. I am working on this however I still feel awkward when somebody comments on my clothes, work, hair, etc. I think it’s an Irish thing, the “thanks Penneys,” meme really sums us up. This is how an Irish person will deflect a compliment about their clothing. Rather than taking the compliment on how the clothes look on them, they will down play it by saying they only got the garment in Penneys. As if it matters where it comes from. I can think of so many cases where I complimented someone, and I got the “would you believe it’s from Penneys”. In Belgium, it’s Primark and it just doesn’t sound the same.

I remember hearing about imposter syndrome about a year ago and thinking that, while I may not have it in its severity, I certainly do experience it from time to time. Imposter syndrome can be defined persistent doubt concerning your abilities despite accomplishments as well as a fear of being exposed as a fraud. After I learned what it was, I started to notice symptoms of it. Writing this column piece is one major example. Since I started writing it, I have not read one published piece. I don’t read Facebook comments and I hate when people mention that they liked my piece this week, or compliment my writing in general. To this day, I feel like they are just making conversation, lying or laughing behind my back. However if somebody wants to give criticism, constructive or not, I’m all ears.

Every Wednesday my mother would text me with a family update and would sometimes mention that she liked my piece that week. I noticed that I reply to every other part of the message except the part with the compliment.

I’ve always known I was like this, constantly thinking that I could do better and downplaying my work. In a way, I like this aspect of my personality. It keeps me on my toes as I am always looking for ways that I can do better, be better, improve. On the other hand, I am aware that I can be very hard on myself. It’s only now I am realising this and it was all because of one little compliment I received at work.

I was making an Amaretto Sour and the man at the other end of the cocktail bar was watching me intently. I hated it, I still feel very fresh to making cocktails and his staring was making me nervous. He noticed my discomfort.

“I’ve worked in a bar all my life, I’m interested to see how you make it,” he said.

“It looks really good.”

This didn’t help at all. An amateur I could deal with as they also don’t know what they’re supposed to be doing, but this man actually does know.

“I’m not the best one to be watching,” says I.

“I’m new to making cocktails,” I explained, launching into how I worked in an Irish country pub where I spent most of my time planked behind a Guinness tap.

There’s actually a name for this, it’s called discounting. This is when you go into all the reasons why you should not be receiving the compliment. I didn’t even know this was a thing, but I do it a lot.

“I’ve been watching you all evening,” he said.

I noticed, I felt like saying. He was literally watching the bar more than my manager.

“You are the hardest worker behind this bar.”

Not a hope. My manager was on that night and other colleagues who had been there for years. They are all extremely hard working and I look up to them. I went into great depth to explain this and to tell him that I had only been there a month. I’m now laughing. The bar was so busy, but my priority at the time was to tell this man that I was not the best worker, rather than just saying thank you.

In the end, Andy, who had worked in a pub in England since he was 18, didn’t take my crap. He argued with me saying I was quick behind the bar, friendly, chatted to everyone while still working and making good drinks. He then informed me that he was good friends with the owner and that he was telling him what he had observed throughout the evening and that I deserved a raise. I didn’t think he actually would but he did. He told my boss exactly what he told me. Yes of course I wanted the ground to swallow me but I also wanted to cry. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. As the newest, I felt like I was annoying everybody for help, that I took too long on the tills and that I would never be as good as my colleagues.

I found it hard to write this (and I probably won’t re-read it) but I think a lot of people are the same. I have realised how important gratitude is. If somebody is doing a good job, tell them. If you are that somebody, take the compliment. The latter is something I am working on!

* Gemma Good is from Killeshandra and a third year journalism student in University of Limerick

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