Why do compliments feel awkward to receive?

so, why does my face go hot when someone says something nice?

Yesterday I was refilling my water bottle at work, minding my own hydration, when a teammate said, “Hey, that last slide deck was 🔥.”

My reaction: an odd half–grunt, half–cough, followed by me escaping toward the bathroom. Not smooth.

If you’ve ever done the blush-shrug-run combo after a compliment, you’re in the right place. Compliments can feel like tiny surprise parties thrown in your honor when you’d rather just scroll memes in peace. Let’s unpack the awkward and then steal back some calm.

compliments poke our threat detector

Brains are dramatic. Their first job is spotting risk, not collecting gold stars. Anything unexpected - yes, even a positive remark - sets off a quick scan:

• “What does she want?”

• “Did I trick them into thinking I’m better than I am?”
• “Everyone’s looking at me, abort mission.”

  That spike is the amygdala yelling “unknown stimulus!” Social anxiety cranks up the volume by adding worst-case fan fiction. Good news: the spike fades in seconds if we don’t feed it. Bad news: most of us feed it with awkward jokes or self-put-downs, keeping the alarm ringing.

  the modesty script we learned in middle school

  Many of us were taught that taking a compliment equals bragging. So we built reflexes like:

  • Deflect: “It was nothing, seriously.”

• Ping-pong: “YOU’RE the talented one.”
• Discount: “I just got lucky.”

  These moves feel polite but secretly trash our own effort and confuse the compliment-giver. It’s cultural clutter - useful when you’re eleven and trying not to get roasted, less useful as an adult trying to own your work.

  social anxiety turns spotlight mode to 100%

  If you already feel like everyone has binoculars aimed at your flaws, a compliment can feel like they’ve found new angles to inspect. That’s the “spotlight effect” lying to you; people aren’t replaying your reaction on loop, they’ve moved on to their next snack.

  Not knowing this, we over-analyze every eyebrow twitch we made during the exchange. Awareness helps: “Ah, my brain is exaggerating again. Classic.”

  how to accept without wanting to vanish

  Quick wins you can test, zero jazz-hands required:

  1. the two-word rule

Say “Thank you.” Stop. No self-burn, no TED Talk. Brevity keeps the amygdala from ramping back up.

2. breathe out, literally

The exhale tells your nervous system the bear has left the room. Compliment accepted, crisis averted.

3. micro-exposure training

Compliment one friend per day on something specific - “You crushed that reference check.” The more you hand out genuine praise, the less alien it feels to receive.

4. write the evidence

Keep a running note of kind words you’ve gotten. On a garbage-self-esteem day, scroll that list. It’s harder for the inner critic to shout “fraud” when receipts exist.

5. upgrade the response

When basic “thank you” feels solid, layer in context: “Thanks, I practiced that deck a lot.” No rambling, just simple ownership. This models healthy acceptance for others too.

when it still feels like sandpaper

Some days the anxiety is louder than logic. If compliments spike you into panic, consider:

• Body double trick: Have a supportive friend nearby in social settings. Shared eye contact lowers stress.

• Rehearsal loop: Practice hearing praise aloud - record a voice memo saying kind things to yourself. Hearing your own voice normalize compliments reduces shock value.
• Professional backup: A few CBT sessions can rewire the auto-deflect habit fast. Think of it as debugging your social code.

  wrapping it up

  Compliments aren’t pop quizzes you have to ace; they’re postcards from people noticing your shine. Feeling awkward doesn’t mean you’re broken - it means your brain is trying to keep you safe with outdated rules. By giving it clearer instructions (“we say thank you, we breathe, we move on”), the awkward shrinks.

  Next time someone drops a “you did great,” try the two-word rule and let the silence sit. Notice how the world doesn’t implode. That tiny pause is confidence growing in real time.

  One day you’ll surprise yourself: someone will praise your work, and instead of sprinting to the bathroom you’ll smile, say “Thanks, I’m proud of it,” and go back to living your life. Awkward phase complete. New quest unlocked.