Future Me, Are You Listening?

Why is it so hard to accept compliments and believe in my own abilities?

It's strange, isn't it? How something as simple as a compliment can feel so complicated. You'd think it would be easy to hear someone say something kind, something affirming, and just accept it. But for as long as I can remember, accepting compliments has felt like trying to hold onto water—it slips through my fingers, leaving me wondering why I can't hold onto the good things people see in me.

I think back to when I was younger—the earliest version of me that I can recall. Back then, things were simpler. I didn't think too much about how others saw me, and when someone complimented me, I accepted it at face value. "You're strong", they'd say, or "You're so creative", and I'd just smile and move on with my day. I didn't question it. I didn't doubt it. I didn't carry it with me, nor did I feel the weight of judgment on the other side of it.

But then something shifted. I can't pinpoint the exact moment when it happened, but gradually, the compliments began to feel hollow. Instead of being comforting or affirming, they felt like something I had to deflect. "You're so talented", someone would say, and my immediate response would be to downplay it: "Oh, no, not really." I'd dismiss the compliment as if it didn't belong to me, as if somehow the person giving it was mistaken. At first, I didn't know why I reacted that way. It just felt... easier. Easier than accepting it. Easier than believing it.

Looking back, I realize that this shift coincided with a period of growing insecurity. I had entered a phase where I became more aware of how I was being perceived, where my self-worth became tangled up in the opinions of others. Suddenly, my own internal dialogue became harsh, self-critical, and unforgiving. Compliments clashed with this narrative. If someone said something kind, it didn't align with the way I saw myself. In fact, it felt like they were talking about someone else entirely. How could I be talented, or kind, or beautiful, if I couldn't see it for myself?

It was easier to believe the judgment, both from others and from within. The negative comments, the criticisms, the self-doubt—they felt more real, more tangible. Compliments, on the other hand, felt fleeting, like a brief breeze you can't catch hold of. They felt too good to be true. And so, I'd push them away. I'd focus on the negative, on the things I could "improve" or "fix", because that felt more within my control.

Even now, I still struggle with accepting compliments. I acknowledge them, I feel thankful for them, and I do believe people when they compliment me—but there's always that lingering voice in the back of my mind that whispers, "Are they just being nice? Do they really mean it?" It's not that I don't trust the people giving the compliments. It's that, somewhere along the way, I learned to trust my own inner critic more. The compliments feel good in the moment, but they don't stick. What sticks are the judgments—both from others and, most painfully, from myself.

But why is this the case? Why is it so much easier to believe the negative than the positive? Why do compliments, which are meant to uplift us, so often feel uncomfortable or undeserved?

Psychologically speaking, this tendency is not uncommon. It's called negativity bias—the human brain's tendency to focus more on negative experiences and information than on positive ones. Evolutionarily, it made sense for our ancestors to pay more attention to threats and dangers in their environment. Being attuned to the negative helped them survive. But in the modern world, where we're not constantly facing life-or-death situations, this negativity bias can work against us. We focus on our flaws, our mistakes, and our insecurities, while the positive things—like compliments—tend to get lost in the background.

Another aspect is imposter syndrome, the internalized belief that we're not as competent as others perceive us to be. Even when we receive praise or recognition, there's this nagging feeling that we don't deserve it, that somehow we've fooled everyone into thinking we're better than we actually are. Compliments, in this context, feel like a spotlight on a performance we're pretending to give, rather than an acknowledgment of our true abilities.

For me, there's also the weight of my own self-perception, which has been shaped by years of internal dialogue. I've spent so much time criticizing myself, picking apart my actions, my appearance, my abilities, that compliments can feel like they're clashing with an identity I've built around insecurity. It's not that I want to feel insecure, but it's familiar. It's something I've held onto for so long that it feels like part of who I am. When someone offers a compliment, it feels like they're challenging that identity. And honestly, I don't always know how to respond.

But here's the thing: I'm starting to realize that my inability to accept compliments says more about my relationship with myself than it does about the compliments themselves. The problem isn't the compliment—it's the fact that I'm so used to measuring my worth through the lens of judgment, rather than through kindness and self-acceptance.

I think about my younger self, the version of me that didn't second-guess every compliment or overanalyze every kind word. She didn't carry the same weight of insecurity that I do now. But I also wonder if, even back then, I was just waiting for the moment when the doubt would creep in, when the world would become more complicated, and self-doubt would start to take over. I wish I could go back to her and say, "Hold onto that confidence. Trust in your abilities. Don't let the world convince you that you're not enough."

But I can't go back. What I can do, though, is learn to be kinder to the version of myself that exists now. I can try to quiet that inner critic, to challenge the voice that tells me I'm not good enough. And I can work on accepting compliments for what they are: a reflection of how others see me, even when I struggle to see myself in the same light.

So why is it hard to accept compliments? I think it comes down to this: we're often our own worst critics. We focus so much on our perceived flaws that we forget to celebrate our strengths. We get used to the negative narratives we've built around ourselves, and when someone offers us a different perspective—one that's kind, generous, and affirming—it feels foreign, almost untrustworthy.

But the truth is, those compliments are just as valid as the criticisms. In fact, they're probably more valid. The people who compliment us aren't weighed down by the same insecurities that we carry. They see us for who we are—our talents, our kindness, our unique qualities. And maybe, just maybe, we should start believing them.

To my past self, the one who dismissed every compliment and focused on every insecurity, I'd say this: You are more than your self-doubt. You are more than the judgments you've placed on yourself. You are capable, you are talented, and you are worthy of every kind word that comes your way. Stop pushing the compliments away. Let them in. Let them challenge the negative thoughts you've held onto for so long. Because the truth is, you deserve to believe in your own abilities just as much as anyone else does.

And to my present self, the one still learning to accept those compliments: It's okay to struggle. It's okay to feel unsure. But remember this—you are enough, exactly as you are. Even when it's hard to believe, even when the compliments feel distant, know that they are speaking to a truth you're still learning to see. You don't have to be perfect to be worthy of praise. You just have to be you.