One night after a recent choir practice, I went out my way to compliment one of the younger members on their solo they had rehearsed that night. They quickly turned away and let out a quick “oh, thanks, shut-up.”
Zentangle has been a fun hobby I’ve picked up that has helped me learn more about that never-satisfied perfectionist voice in my head. That voice sure likes to hone in on every mistake.
I have to take a step back and realize that even with mistakes, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy what I’m doing and it usually turns out looking pretty cool, no matter what!
Their mother, who was also in the choir, had overheard said, “that’s not how to respond to a compliment!” Watching “The Princess Diaries” as much as I did growing up, I’ve learned not to take offence if a teenager says, “shut-up” candidly.
I hope I was able to relieve the tension when I let them know that when I was younger I responded to compliments similarly. I used to think adults were obligated to say stuff like that and I had a hard time believing them. I noticed the young person start to nod as they continued to turn away, but I saw their shoulders soften a bit.
I went on to tell her about my inner voice of criticism that used to tell me things like, “they’re just saying that to make me feel good” or my Impostor Syndrome that makes it feel like everyone’s totally fooled if they think I did anything well or correctly and any moments, they’ll realize I’m a fraud.
By that point, the teenager had turned toward me and was nodding, this time getting excited to speak. “Exactly!” she said. A few of the other younger members of the choir had casually gathered around us and were also nodding in agreement.
One of them chimed in with, “I really don’t care what people think about me.”
I lamented how I wished I had that ability. My husband calls me out on it all the time.
“You’re so concerned with what people think about you,” he likes to say. Sometimes he’s right and I can ignore it, but sometimes I know it digs at me. Especially if the opinion comes from someone I admire.
I wished I had more wisdom to offer them in that moment. It felt good to be able to relate to them and maybe let them know they’re not alone and that adults feel that way too. Maybe that was enough.
But as I thought about the conversation later, I thought about how I wished I could have let them know that no one knows what they’re doing all the time and we’re all trying to figure it out.
Even though I had been wrestling with my own confidence and Impostor Syndrome lately, I desperately wanted to pour whatever confidence I could into those who felt they were lacking it.
It made me start thinking of all those adults I was lucky enough to have teaching me singing throughout the years whose compliments I didn’t take seriously.
I started journaling their names and what they specifically helped me with when it came to my singing voice and I found myself incredibly grateful. Maybe they saw me the same way when I was a teenager.
Maybe they also wished I could fully receive the compliments they gave. And maybe if I did, I could have felt supported enough to do those things I didn’t even try for because I was convinced I wasn’t good enough.
Instead, I chose to believe the bad things people said. Like Julie Roberts said in Pretty Woman, “The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?”
No matter how many times I watched that movie and committed that line to memory, I still have trouble remembering or even acknowledging compliments.
I’ve tried a few methods, like keeping a folder in my Gmail for emails from clients letting me know how much I’ve helped them and tracking nice things said to me for a few days once as an experiment.
I’m also just now realizing I can’t remember anything in particular about the dozens of 4- and 5-star reviews of my podcast and book, but I can easily remember some of the phrases that cut the deepest from the handful of 1-star reviews.
On a recent episode of Women & ADHD (sorry I don’t remember which one!), ADHD coach Katy Weber said something to the effect of, “it’s like our brains get bored with the compliments, but the negative things we think or hear become problems we are determined to solve, so we can fixate on those so-called ‘faults.’”
It struck me as so true, and I would love to know the secret to being able to balance both. The closest I can come, and what I made sure to pass onto the teens that night, was that what other people think of you is none of your business.
This was a harsh reality for me and may be somewhat shocking when you first hear it, so I’ll repeat it:
What other people think of you is none of your business.
This isn’t my quote, but I’ve seen it enough to have it committed to memory. Check out this post from Happiness.com about that phrase and how it can help my fellow recovering people-pleasers.
But to summarize, it means others can have their opinions about you, but those opinions are filtered through their knowledge, experience, values, beliefs, and a multitude of other biases. They are not objectively true statements — they are opinions.
Whether you choose to put meaning to them and believe them is ultimately up to you.
Since I’ve been in my usual March funk and haven’t felt so great, this conversation was a bit of a reminder to me to watch that those negative messages that loop in my head that can drown out the positivity and love and genuine compliments that are also in my life.
Ultimately, it’s my opinion of myself that matters most. (And maybe the opinion of Julie Andrews because I love her and really believe she’s “practically perfect in every way.”)
WHAT TO READ NEXT …
Choir-Inspired Podcasting Lessons (on my podcasting blog)
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