Why Is It So Hard to Just Say “Thank You”?
We have already established I am certainly not perfect. If you’ve read some of my previous posts, I am pretty honest about that. I get called out for things… A LOT. But there is one particular thing that I have been chastised for more frequently lately and always in the kindest way. “Every time I compliment you, you deflect. You just can’t accept it.”
And the truth? They’re right.
Here’s what it looks like in real life:
Someone says, “You’re talented and creative.” I respond with, “Everyone is to some extent.”
Someone says, “You look great today.” I respond with, “I just threw something on.”
Someone says, “Your skin is glowing.” I respond with, “I washed my face today.”
A coworker says, “You did an amazing job on that.” I respond with, “It wasn’t that hard. Anyone could have done it.”
Someone says, “You’re doing a great job with your kids. I say, “They are practically raising themselves.”
Sound familiar? It’s automatic, like my reflex is to shrink away from spotlight or redirect it somewhere else. Why do I do that? Especially when I know what they are saying is true. Many times it is just validation of something that I have already said to myself.
Why We Brush Compliments Away
For me, praise can sometimes feel heavy. Maybe it’s like that for your too. If not, then I envy you. It’s SUPER uncomfortable. Compliments aren’t just words to me. Sometimes they feel like expectations. If I’m “talented,” then I have to prove it every time. If I’m “creative,” then I’d better have my next big idea ready. If I’m “beautiful,” then I always have to be.
So instead of standing in that light, I dim it. I soften it. Or I share it with “everyone else.” That way it doesn’t feel like pressure, and acknowledging it doesn’t feel like bragging.
But the problem with that is, when we do that, we rob both ourselves and the person giving the compliment. Think about it: when someone takes the time to recognize your work, your growth, or your gift, and you brush it off—what you’re really saying is, “Nah, that’s not worth noticing.” And that doesn’t feel good for either side.
It’s almost like we’ve been trained not to get too comfortable with recognition. Especially women, especially Black women, we hear the word “humble” so much that it becomes a reflex. (Anyone else hearing Kendrick Lamar’s voice in their head? Just me? Okay.) Don’t be too proud. Don’t get a big head. Don’t outshine anyone.
I’m going to let you in on a secret that I just discovered… humility and honesty are not the same thing.
Humility is about staying grounded.
Honesty is about acknowledging the truth.
So I had to force myself to start acknowledging and sitting with the truth. And the truth is, sometimes I do look good. Sometimes my makeup is giving what it’s supposed to give. Sometimes I worked my behind off on that project. Sometimes my kids are thriving because of the effort I pour into them.
So why am I so quick to dismiss that? Why are we?
When we brush off a compliment, it doesn’t make us more humble—it makes the moment awkward. At least that’s how I see it. The person who gave it feels shut down. And we miss the chance to honor or feel good about ourselves.
Think about it: somebody went out of their way to notice something good about you. They definitely didn’t have to. And instead of letting that land, we toss it aside with, “Oh, it’s nothing.”
But it’s not “nothing.” It’s evidence of who we are and how we show up in the world. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve worked too hard to keep dismissing my own accomplishments. I am talented. I am creative. I did write a book—and another one is on the way. That’s not arrogance. That’s just truth.
A lot of us, especially Black women, are taught to stay humble, not make too much noise, not be “too much.” There’s this unspoken rule that pride equals arrogance. But there’s a difference between arrogance and acknowledgment.
Arrogance says: “I’m better than everyone else.”
Acknowledgment says: “I worked hard for this, and I’m proud of it.”
Those are not the same thing.
Learning to Sit in the Compliment
The more we practice receiving compliments, the easier it gets. It becomes less about “bigging yourself up” and more about honoring the effort, energy, and love you’ve already given. Sounds simple, but it it really is a chore for me because saying “thank you” means I have to own the truth of the compliment. It means I have to admit that yes, I am beautiful, hardworking, nurturing, talented, or whatever else they see in me. So I’ve decided: I need to learn how to just take a compliment.
The next time somebody says, “Your skin is glowing,” instead of, “Oh, I just washed my face,” I’m going to try:
“Thank you.”
When someone says, “You killed it on that project,” instead of, “I just did what I had to do,” I’m going to try:
“Thank you.”
And when someone tells me, “You’re raising such amazing kids,” instead of, “I’m just glad they’re better for you than they are for me,” I’m going to try:
“Thank you.”
No qualifiers. No disclaimers. No turning it back on them.
Because the truth is, I deserve that moment. You deserve yours too.
We all spend so much time chasing the next thing, setting the next goal, moving on before we’ve even celebrated what we just accomplished. I’m realizing life’s too short to rush past your own wins. These moments go by way too quickly, once they are gone, that’s it. Celebrate them while they are here.
A Note To Anyone Who Can Relate
If you’re like me and you’ve mastered the art of the deflection, it’s time we unlearn it. I want you to ask yourself: what’s behind it? Is it fear of being seen? Fear of disappointing people? Or just old habits that originated from h ow we were taught to carry ourselves?
Wherever it comes from, you don’t have to stay stuck there. Start small. The next time someone says, “I’m proud of you,” don’t rush to hand the praise away. Try just receiving it and let yourself feel it. Because you are worth celebrating and sometimes the bravest thing you can do is simply own that truth. Don’t shrink from your light. Stand in it.
“Thank you” is more than enough.
