Do Compliments From Strangers Make You Uncomfortable?

Yesterday afternoon, I ran into the grocery store because I forgot to stop on the way to the gym and again when I passed the store on the way home. Duh.

Oh, and when I say “ran into the grocery store,” I mean it. For a variety of reasons, there is nothing more anxiety-producing for me than being in a grocery store, which I will tell you more about in a different post.

Anyway, I had my bag of groceries and was hustling down the parking lot towards my car when a younger man passed me, smiled, and said, “You’re beautiful, sweetheart.” 

My reaction was a combination of making a WTF face, turning around to see if there was someone else he was talking to, and then blushing, preening, and practically simpering a  "Thank you"  as we passed each other.

Beauty was subjective at that moment. My jaw was clenched. I had left the gym three hours before and hadn't showered. My hair hadn’t been washed in days and was in a tangled ponytail, and my gym clothes were sweaty and old, to the point where I had taken a black Sharpie that morning and colored in a few faded spots on my leggings so they didn’t look as ratty as they were.  

You get the picture. My vibe was exasperated, smelly slob.

Even though that dude called me Sweetie, and even if he might have been making fun of me because I was a hot mess, and even if he said that sentence to every female he passed for the rest of the day, it made me feel good.

That exchange made me think of how little time it takes to say something nice or compliment someone and how meaningful it can be. 

Sometimes, I tend to be self-conscious or withdrawn and find it difficult to open up to people or say things like, “I like your shoes...” Or “You look nice today…”

I need to work on that. I want more of it in my life and to give it to others.  

Words are powerful. It takes one sentence to tear someone down and just as much time to lift them up—the lifting up is so much better.  

I’m not going to lie; I had a little more pep in my step for the rest of the day. 

Those three words put wind in my sails.