The compliment lands in the air like a little balloon: “You look great today.”
You smile automatically, cheeks tightening, but your stomach does a weird flip.
Inside, a tiny voice jumps up: “They’re exaggerating… they don’t really mean that… what do I say now?”
So you deflect. You joke. You point out the stain on your shirt or complain that you “just rolled out of bed.”
The other person looks slightly confused, even a bit disappointed.
Later, on the bus or in the kitchen, the scene replays.
Why did three nice words feel so… uncomfortable?
And why does a simple “You did a great job” feel more dangerous than silence?
When praise feels like a spotlight instead of a hug
Some people describe compliments like a warm blanket.
Others experience them more like a flashlight suddenly turned on their face.
Psychologists say this isn’t about being rude or ungrateful.
It’s about what a compliment touches inside: shame, doubt, old stories we carry about ourselves.
If you grew up in a world where praise was rare, conditional, or followed by criticism, even a soft “Well done” can feel like the first step toward something painful.
So the body tenses.
The mind scans for danger.
And a moment that was supposed to be sweet starts to feel strangely unsafe.
Take Sara, 32, who gets great feedback at work but still freezes every time her manager says, “You nailed that presentation.”
Her heart speeds up, palms damp, and she blurts out, “Oh, it was nothing, I just got lucky.”
She knows it sounds dismissive.
She can see the small shadow that passes over her manager’s face.
Yet the words tumble out faster than she can catch them.
At home, scrolling on her phone, she sees posts about “self-love” and “own your worth”.
She ticks all the adult boxes: job, flat, friends.
But a harmless compliment feels heavier than an entire to-do list.
She’s not alone: some studies suggest people with low self-esteem actually feel worse after positive feedback, because it clashes with how they see themselves.
Psychologists explain that when a compliment contradicts your inner narrative, your brain treats it like a suspicious email.
It doesn’t match the “you” your mind has filed away, so the system flags it.
If deep down you believe “I’m average at best,” then “You’re brilliant at this” is not just surprising.
It’s destabilizing.
Accepting it would mean updating a whole identity that’s been built over years.
So you protect that old identity.
You argue with the compliment in your head, or out loud.
*The unease is not about the words themselves, but about what they threaten to change.*
And change, even when it’s positive, is rarely a calm process.
How to respond differently when a compliment makes your skin crawl
One gentle trick psychologists use is almost embarrassingly simple: practice saying “Thank you” and nothing else.
Out loud.
Alone.
Stand in your bathroom or hallway and imagine real situations.
“Nice job on that project.” — “Thank you.”
“I love your outfit.” — “Thank you.”
At first, it feels stiff, even fake.
Your brain wants to add, “It was on sale,” or “I had help,” or “I just got lucky.”
Let the urge pass like a wave and repeat the short version.
You’re not trying to believe you’re amazing overnight.
You’re just training your mouth to stop running away from a kind moment.
A lot of people sabotage compliments without noticing.
They joke them away, change the subject, or give one back too quickly, like a hot potato.
“Your talk was great!”
“Oh, no, yours was so much better, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
On the surface it sounds humble.
Underneath, it tells your nervous system that praise is dangerous and must be dodged.
Let’s be honest: nobody really does this every single day.
Confidence practice sounds like extra homework on a life that’s already full.
Start tiny.
Pick one compliment this week that you will simply accept, even if your brain is screaming.
Notice what happens next.
Usually the world doesn’t collapse.
Someone just smiles back.
Psychologist Dr. Kristin Neff often says that self-compassion is not about convincing yourself you’re the best, but about treating yourself like you would treat a dear friend who’s struggling.
Receiving a compliment is one small place where that mindset quietly changes everything.
- Pause before you answer a compliment.
One slow breath gives your nervous system a chance to calm down. - Use a simple script: “Thank you, that means a lot.”
Repeating the same line reduces panic about what to say. - Resist the urge to argue with the compliment.
No “but,” no self-criticism tagged at the end. - Notice where you feel the discomfort in your body.
Is it in your chest, your throat, your stomach? - Journal one sentence a day about something you did well.
It trains your brain not to treat praise as foreign territory.
Rethinking what compliments say about you
There’s another layer that psychologists are seeing in their offices and studies.
For many people, compliments feel like a contract.
“If they think I’m talented, I can’t fail next time.”
“If they say I look good, I have to keep looking like this.”
So praise stops being a gift and turns into pressure.
Especially for women, for people of color, for anyone who’s been told they had to “prove” themselves twice as much, positive feedback can sound like a standard they’re now obliged to meet forever.
Some even fear jealousy or backlash from others.
Shining too brightly in certain families, schools, or workplaces has a cost.
So the safest thing seems to be shrinking from the glow, pretending the compliment doesn’t fit.
Psychologists invite a different reading: a compliment is just one person’s snapshot, not your full biography.
It’s a moment, not a verdict.
“You did that presentation well” doesn’t secretly mean “You must now be perfect at all presentations forever.”
“You look great in that color” doesn’t mean you’re required to wake up like a fashion editorial every day.
When compliments stop feeling like verdicts, they become lighter.
You can weigh them, keep the ones that feel true, set aside the ones that don’t.
You don’t have to swallow every word whole.
You also don’t have to spit them all out.
Underneath all of this sits a quiet, almost shy question: what if the people who compliment you are not completely wrong about you?
Not that they see everything.
Not that they know your darkest thoughts or your worst mistakes.
But what if they glimpse a version of you that is slightly kinder, slightly braver, slightly more capable than the one you drag around in your head?
That possibility can sting.
It asks you to loosen your grip on an identity built on self-criticism.
Some readers will feel ready to test this.
Others will want to slam the door and turn off the light.
Both reactions make sense.
The interesting part is what you do next time someone says, “Hey, you did that really well,” and your body wants to run.
Do you follow the old script, or try a new line, just once, to see how it feels?
| Key point | Detail | Value for the reader |
|---|---|---|
| Compliment discomfort has roots | Linked to self-esteem, past criticism, and identity | Reduces shame by showing there’s a psychological reason |
| Short, practiced responses help | Using simple scripts like “Thank you” calms anxiety | Gives an easy, practical tool to use in real life |
| Reframing praise lowers pressure | Seeing compliments as snapshots, not verdicts | Makes it easier to accept kind words without feeling trapped |
FAQ:
- Why do I feel awkward when someone compliments me?
Because the compliment often clashes with how you see yourself.
Your brain tries to protect a familiar self-image, even if that image is harsh, so praise feels uncomfortable or “wrong”.- Is disliking compliments a sign of low self-esteem?
Not always, but it’s common.
People with lower self-esteem tend to distrust positive feedback or feel they don’t deserve it, which makes compliments stressful.- How can I stop deflecting every compliment I get?
Start by noticing your automatic reactions, then experiment with a simple response like “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
Practice it when you’re alone so it feels less strange in the moment.- What if I honestly don’t agree with the compliment?
You don’t have to fully believe it to accept the kindness.
You can say, “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say,” and treat it as their perspective, not an absolute truth.- Can therapy help with this?
Yes.
Therapists often work on the deeper beliefs and past experiences that make praise feel unsafe, and help you build a more flexible, compassionate view of yourself.
