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I blog. I also mother, wife, create, preserve, recycle, cook, act, quilt, exercise, laugh, write, lolligag, work, volunteer, sing, and sometimes sleep.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Just Take the Damn Compliment

When I was 13, I was sent to Weight Watcher's camp by my well meaning mother.  Whose idea was that? I don't know, but I do know that I'd been the butt of fat jokes since the 3rd grade, and I was starting a new school...not just a regular new school, but a non-parochial...wait for it...PUBLIC school.  And whether it was my mom's plan or mine, this little 5'4" teen, topping the scales at 142 pounds (I'd kill to weigh that today) needed to lose weight, so off to fat camp I went.

I have a lot of memories from those 4 weeks in the mountains of Carpinteria, near Santa Barbara...taking horribly tempting walks past acres of avocado farms; singing "Time after Time" in the talent show; doing morning calisthenics; dealing with the tennis coach, who, upon hearing that my family was from Nicaragua, called me a fascist for reasons I still don't completely understand (which earned me a chance to talk to my parents, as an official phone call had to be made); putting mustard on EVERYTHING, as it was the only condiment we were allowed as much of as we wanted; my first "real" kiss (EW!), followed by several weeks of much less gross, but much more chapped lip inducing chaste kisses by my first real beau, Jeff...and compliment class.

I'm sure it wasn't called compliment class.  It was probably self esteem class or be nice to yourself class or something more appropriately titled, but here I am, almost 30 years later...and I remember.  We had to take a class to learn how to take a compliment.  As the quintessential "fat kids" we were good at self deprecating, good at deflecting attention, good at not being noticed...we weren't very good at taking a compliment.  And I have to admit, the folks over at WW were brilliant in this regard.  To this day, I remember being in that room and having us having to walk around, give each other compliments, and being required to say back "Thank you.".  Sincerely, genuinely and with eye contact.  It was explained to us that when we didn't do that, it was, in a way, insulting the person giving the compliment.  It was saying "Listen, I know you just gave me your opinion, but your opinion sucks."  Whether it was changing the response to  "That's a nice dress!" from "This old thing?" or "This?  Ugh!"  to "Thank you!  I've had it forever, I'm glad it has held up." but changing our fat kid, people pleasing, self deprecating selves to accept that not only were we worth of taking the compliment, but not doing so was actually being mean to the person giving you the compliment.  And that has stuck.  Not that it is easy, mind you.  There are plenty of times I WANT to respond with snark and sarcasm and self deprecation.  Let's face it, it's what I do.  But goodness, imagine if we ALL took that class.  And every time we got a compliment, instead of dismissing it, we TOOK it.  And were grateful for it, and showed our gratitude, and even more incredibly, BELIEVED it.

I was at the doctor's today and the woman in front of me was being checked in and she said to the receptionist..."I love your nail polish!" and the receptionist looked at her nails and said "Oh, they're disgusting right now, I haven't had time to go get them done."  And I thought, dude.  That's one skinny girl who would benefit from going to fat camp.

Once in a while, I get on my loved ones and MAKE them take the compliment.  I LOVE to compliment people, and I will often give them a hard time for not taking them from me.  I also (now) love getting compliments.  I need to get better at remembering those at least somewhat more weighted than the insults...and so sometimes I write them down, even though it feels narcissistic...I know if I weren't to do so, I'd forget.  It's amazing what a gift they can be.