When Compliments Feel Like a Challenge
Combined: February 2, February 20th, and March 3rd 2024
It's 2 AM, and I'm staring at my ceiling, replaying today's conversation in my head. Someone told me they believe in me, and instead of feeling good, I feel this knot in my stomach. Why is it so hard to accept when people see good in me?
The thing about compliments is they feel like tiny arrows, piercing through this carefully constructed shield I've built. Every time someone calls me smart, I want to pull out a PowerPoint of my mistakes. When they say I'm capable, I think about how I have to read text messages five times to understand them, or how my words come out jumbled and wrong.
It's exhausting, really. This constant need to disprove people's faith in me. Like when I got into Georgia Tech - instead of celebrating, I made a mental list of all the reasons they probably accepted me: diversity quotas, being from an underrepresented state, having a disability. Anything but actually deserving it.
For the longest time, I thought I was just being realistic, preparing for everything to go wrong so I wouldn't be disappointed. But here's the thing: when you spend all your energy preparing for the worst, you miss out on the chance to enjoy the good stuff. That shield I've kept up to block disappointment? It blocks everything else too.
But lately, there's this tiny voice getting louder. What if they're not wrong? These people in my life - they're not stupid. They see me struggle to read, they hear me when I can't find the right words, and they still believe in me. They've probably seen me at my worst and still stuck around. Instead of using these challenges as proof that I'm not good enough, I'm trying to see them differently. Maybe getting through these challenges is actually a sign of strength, not weakness.
It's almost funny how much effort I put into convincing people I'm not as capable as they think. What if I put that same energy into actually believing in myself?
This whole "learning to believe in yourself" is a weird journey. Some days, I feel like I'm getting somewhere, and other days, that little voice of doubt comes screaming back. But maybe that's okay too. Maybe it's not about silencing the doubt completely but about making room for both - the doubt and the belief, the struggles and the successes.
The people who believe in me—they're not crazy. They see something I'm still learning to accept and see in myself.
SK
