You’d think that compliment’s a compliment, and they’re all pretty much the same, and all are nice to hear. Well, they are all nice to hear, but there are differences in them. Let’s see…
First, there’s the compulsory compliments. The “oh, you look lovely! Have you had your hair done?” ones, where you’re not really sure if they’re just saying that for the sake of saying something, or if they really do like your hair/dress/earrings. These compliments aren’t really compliments at all, but general social niceties that are required in normal interaction between people. And everyone knows the rules. You’re supposed to give, and receive, them like you mean them. Only, you’re also allowed to be mean with them. Now that’s a skill. Not the obviously mean ones, everyone can do those! But the ones that sounds like a compliment, look like a compliment, even feel like a compliment, except for that little voice in your head that goes “what did she really mean by that?” But as far as we’re not considering the mean version of this compliment, the compulsory compliment is a nice, if empty thing to hear.
Then there’s the “family compliments”. These are nice, make you feel better, until you realise these people are required to say you look nice etc. because they love you. They don’t want to hurt your feelings, so they lie. Or alternatively, they really do think that everything you do, including that unfortunate Flashdance-phase you underwent, is wonderful and an amazing idea. The family compliments usually come from mothers, boyfriends, husbands and other people like that who have an emotional (and sometimes physical) reason to be nice. Nonetheless, it is always nice to hear your new dress looks good on you, truth or not.
Third group of compliments are the ones with a hidden agenda. These are used to flatter you when the one passing them out is really just trying to get something out of you. “You’re so good with organizing like that, I wish I was more like you” is designed to make you take responsibility of whatever function needs to be directed, and taking the responsibility off the shoulders of the person saying that. Even your close friends use these: “That bag is so beautiful! I wish I had your wardrobe.” And before long, you’re either loaning, or even giving, the item in question to your friend.
Of course, there are sincere compliments, too! You’re boyfriend really does think you look beautiful as you meet him for dinner. Your friends love your new hairdo. You really did well in the tennis court this afternoon. These are always compliments one loves to hear. They make you feel all warm and fuzzy and sparkling. Only, once you’ve been in the receiving end of the not-so-nice types of compliments for a rather long time, you start to question these. Are they saying that ’cause they know you? Does your husband think you look beautiful in this outfit because he thinks you look pretty in everything, including that time you wore your grandmothers old straw hat and a pair of denim overalls for some garden work and he said you looked really cute? Are you getting complements for your tennis game, not because it’s actually any good, but because you just don’t suck anymore? Why are they complimenting me?
That’s why my favourite compliments are the Stranger Compliments, or the No-Strings-Attached compliments. When someone who has no idea who I am, and what I can and cannot do, pays me a compliment, I know it’s real. Okay, it can be really shallow, like a long look at my ass. But I’m not judging that as a compliment to my intellect (as which it would be lousy) but as a compliment to the way my ass looks in my snappy little pencil skirt. And that lets me know it looks good. Thank you, sir, now wipe that drool off your chin.
What got me thinking of all this? As of late I’ve started to anonymously comment on Ski Guy’s blog. Okay, he knows it’s me, after all, he caught one of my jokes. But no one else does. And I was just complimented with a comment that I “have some funny comments”. Now, from a complete stranger, that’s a big thing. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy, ’cause I know he (or she, I don’t know) said it purely based on my comments on Ski Guy’s blog. Nothing else. So, I was considered funny. That’s really nice to hear.
