Why is it so difficult to accept a compliment?
by Beth Teitell

Tuesday, October 2, 2001

What's the right way to respond to a compliment?

Do you follow the etiquette books' advice and say ``thank you''?

Or, do you approach the compliment as a seasoned debater does his opponent's opening statement, eager to pounce on every weakness in the argument?

I was wondering about this after I spent 10 minutes defending my assertion that a friend looked ``cute.''

``I may look `cute' to you,'' she responded, skimming her hands over her khakis, ``but you have no idea what size these are, for one, and secondly, they were six dollars, and when I washed them, this weird blue color appeared.''

She pointed it out.

``My sneakers,'' she continued, ``were formerly used to hold up a chair, and I haven't shaved my legs in weeks, not to mention that I need to lose 25 pounds.''

She paused for a moment. ``But thanks.''

During the weekend I went to a baby shower. A friend and I were discussing how nicely decorated the hostess' apartment was, when I made the mistake of saying, ``Your place is perfectly decorated, too.''

``Are you kidding?'' she asked.

I braced myself, as I would for a performance review.

``We've lived there seven years,'' she began, ``and I still don't know what to do with the windows'' - curtains or interior shutters? - ``and the floors need to be redone. The kitchen . . .''

That used to be me, until a few months ago, when necessity turned me into a compliment accepter. I'm pregnant, and as you may know if you've ever been pregnant, or known a pregnant woman, people want to say something nice to a woman who's with child.

Although I do sit-ups daily when I'm not pregnant to fight off a brownie belly, the larger I get the more compliments I receive. As I cruise toward the finish line, several times a day people tell me I look ``great'' or ``cute'' or ``fantastic,'' none of which, believe me, are true.

The old me tried to fight off these statements, as if they were cold germs, but during an epiphany I realized that this actually put the complimenter in the uncomfortable position of defending a nicety that he or she might not even have meant.

``You call more attention to yourself when you refuse to accept a compliment,'' explained a friend, who, nonetheless, has never been successfully complimented, not even on her wedding day.

``This old thing?'' she said, only partially kidding, when I told her I liked her dress.

The trick, of course, is to accept the compliment while at the same time indicating that you don't believe it. ``I say `thank you,' '' a reforming non-accepter told me, ``but I roll my eyes to indicate I don't really believe it.''

She's smart. Because if there's one thing worse than someone who won't accept a compliment, it's someone who does.

``I'm always suspicious of the people who accept compliments,'' a friend told me. ``They seem really conceited.

``By the way,'' she added, ``I liked your column the other day.''

Hey, what kind of fool did she take me for?