azurelunatic | Why I can't take insincere compliments

I was raised as the cherished child of a loving household, with an equally adored little sister. We were, for the most part, good kids, and while FatherSir lost his temper over stuff, it was always clear that we had screwed up in some way (had broken a rule, were fighting with each other or appeared to be so) if we got in trouble.

Lies were not a part of our household.

I can still remember the first time I knowingly lied.

I was in first grade, and I had been reading books a little above grade level over the summer. One of the books had been Encyclopedia Brown and the Exploding Plumbing. In that book, the toilet of one of Encyclopedia's friends shatters as boiling water shoots into the bowl. This is because a villain had wreaked havoc in the utility room, smashing stuff stored there, and incidentally squashing some plumbing and causing hot water to be released into the cold water pipes. Though my reading level was up there, my grasp on everything was not quite keeping pace with my reading, and I came away from the book with the conviction that toilets were dangerous, and plumbing errors could cause them to explode at any moment.

So, I refused to go to the bathroom at school, where the plumbing was out of my control. Refused.

Now, this was first grade, with class starting at 9:00 am, and school letting out at 3:30 pm. Far too long for a little kid to hold it.

So, I wet my pants at school. A lot. No one could really figure out why, and I was less-than-forthcoming on the subject.

Mrs. Stark asked me, before recess one day, if I had to go to the bathroom. I did. I really did. "No," I lied.

I remember this lie, because I had a firm grasp on what the truth was, and how it was important to tell the truth, if you said something. You could make up a story, but it had to be recognizable as something that wasn't literally true, and not taken as such. For example, stories about the life of the stuffed animal, or the fairies, were OK. Saying that there wasn't any snow when there was, or denying a physical fact, was not OK.

And I was taught that what you thought and felt were as solid as the trees. Mutable, liable to change with new information and so forth, but undeniably there. I am happy. I am sad. This is making me excited. That is making me sad.

It was inconceivable, to me, that anyone should declare that they felt or thought something when in fact they did not.

I was not really one of the popular kids. I was one of the acceptable, but odd ones. Thus, the Bad Boys found it irresistable to tease me, especially when I responded. I'm fairly sure that I learned how to deal with the simple teases, but the thing that undid me was when they started saying nice things to me in a taunting voice. At first I took them at literal value. This did not go well. I tried to ignore them. They escalated it.

By the time I was in 7th grade, the guys were getting so unbearable that when Mike Croteau started flirting with me in earnest, I automatically took him as taunting, and when he asked me to go out with him, and didn't take me seriously when I told him to get lost, I whacked him over the head with a library book.

I learned that the only people who could ever call me sexy were the obnoxious boys who I wanted to punch. I learned that only the assholes called me beautiful, and they were doing it to mock me. I learned that when I got a crush on a guy, he'd think I was a weird freak and shun me. Even if he was another one of the smart and not so popular ones.

It took me until

digitalambience to begin to wrap my mind around the idea that a man in his right mind could consider me beautiful.

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Children are such little shits.

*hugs*

The younger kids weren't so bad. It was the teenagers. Boys starting to grow into their hormones are such assholes.

See usually the real underlying issue is that they think you are pretty but they have self esteem issues and thus they have to mock you in order to make themselves feel better. In other words they have to make you hate them because they are being mean rather than have you hate them because they are just plain stupid, ugly, whatever their real problem is. This is why even to this day when people call me a freak, I smile, nod and assure them *hand on their shoulder* 'don't be jealous you can be a freak too if you really work at it' Bwah hah ha ha ha

freak is an insult? I don't understand...

So, it's okay that having seen your journal and some pictures that I find both your mind and body, beautiful? Hope so.

Quite all right, because you're one of the people who is known for finding people quite honestly beautiful, and who is not given to yelling out sarcastic things that parse like compliments but are, in context, intended as insulting.

The "You could be so pretty if only you -- " class of comments are in a level of hell all their own.

I'm not sure how I got known as such but that really makes my day! Thank you.

Well, you don't make your appreciation of the female form, both in the abstract and specific, a secret. However, when you're appreciating toothsome beauty in the specific, you do not assume that your attraction should excite a reciprocal desire in the object of your attention. You have made it fairly clear that mental unattractiveness is a bigger turn-off than a body that doesn't exactly fit your standards of Ideally Hot. You show appreciation for happiness and health over self-abuse to fit into an unhealthy standard.

I measure a man's romantic health in part by the number of women he considers hot who he can exchange reciprocal greetings with. If someone is only attracted to people who can't even give him the time of day, he's not romantically healthy.

gremliness phrased something once about "the slightly-cloying feeling of someone who's looking for romance too hard", and I find that a major turn-off. You, obviously, don't have that. Another thing that doesn't work is the "There are all these hot women who are friends with me, but not one of them would consider me romantically!" That's the trap that too many "nice guys" fall into. Far better is the attitude, "There are so many hot women who consider me a friend, maybe eventually I will find one who will think of me as more than that!"

Another bad one is the one where someone (either gender, actually) is Unrequitedly In Love, and will very clearly accept No One But That One True Love... and then bemoans the lack of attractive/available singles in the area, and does with the whole "Nobody loooooooooooves me!" bit. I've pulled this one in the past, so I know exactly how bad it is. Far better is the "Well, this is the one I want, and it's quite possible that no one else is going to suit my fancy while I like them, but he's hot and she's hot and he's got a nice personality."

One of the things I really shy away from is when a guy who's supposedly happily partnered has that "I'm looking too hard" feeling about them. When those people tell me I'm beautiful, my instinct is to either leave the area, or invite them to leave.

Compliments from someone who is Romantically Unsuitable make me shy off. Compliments from someone who is Romantically Suitable but not compatible are accepted with grace.

Those last, of course, being distinct from the ones that are, "You are lovely, and hold the potential to become even more beautiful."

These are good ones.

I'm curious...

What if someone said something along the lines of 'Yo, hot mamma, you one /fiiiiiine/ bitch' - and you were fairly sure they meant it sincerely.

It's not the most wonderful compliment in the world, but would it have the same effect as the non-compliments?

Depends on whether they were just stating their attraction, no response necessary, or whether they were expecting that since they were attracted to me, I owed them sex. Compliments of the form, "The way you look is pleasing to me," however roughly phrased, go over pretty well. Ones saying, "Because I like the way you look, you need to repay my good-will with some good-will of your own, preferably in bed," generally are asking for a punch in the nose, or places more southerly.

Of all the ego-boosts, actually, is walking by a gang of busy construction workers, and getting whistles. They're busy; I'm headed elsewhere; there are generally no invitations to spend some time together.

votania and I don't exactly use the politest language interacting with each other; "You bitch!" is occasionally said, and then there is a cascade of giggles.

*grins*

E and I had taken to calling each other 'bitch'. It was amusing. :o)

*snork*

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