On Compliments

Hey, dear friends.

I've been thinking about compliments for a long time. We don't like them. We have a hard time receiving them, and we don't give them away easily either.

In Norway, we have this internal cultural reference to this phenomenon called Janteloven, meaning The Law of Jante. I have no idea who this Jante person is, but the idea is that we're not supposed to stick out, be visible, brag, think highly of ourselves, or believe we're special or worth anything at all.

There's a passive, subtle fog around this concept that lingers over the Norwegian people — etched into our spines like a quiet threat: Don't say anything. Do as you're told. Don't ask questions. And for the love of God, don't tell anyone they're good at something — they'll just get full of themselves. And don't accept recognition either. Keep your feet on the ground, lad. You're going nowhere.

Compliments are also very confronting. If you receive one, you're faced with a major decision: to believe it… or not. Can you even allow yourself to believe it? And suddenly, right in the middle of your ordinary day, out of nowhere, you're swept into an existential storm you have to navigate and resolve immediately — because the other person is standing there right in front of you, smiling in a strange cocktail of expectation and bashfulness. They're excited to see your joyful reaction, but also slightly terrified they might be rejected.

So not only do you have your own sweaty little crisis spinning inside your head, but now you're also responsible for their emotional safety. You don't want to abandon them — or spit on their attempt to connect with you. But you also don't want to come off as arrogant, and be busted as someone who thinks they're God's gift to humanity.

So… what do you do?? You're basically fainting on the inside because you simply cannot decide that quickly. Your entire soul is in shock and, to be honest, and you kind of want to lie down.

…

Does this feel recognizable?

Well, who would want to put that kind of pressure on someone you care about, look up to, or love? No… not us! We want to protect them. So we don't go around throwing compliments at people left and right. Instead, we tell the compliments to other people — in confidence — behind their backs. So the person we actually admire most likely never finds out what we truly think of them. (I like em-dashes, leave me alone, I need space)

And eventually… they die.

Now finally, it's safe to say everything out loud — because they're already dead, so you can't hurt them anymore. Then we speak. And we summon all the memories and all the wonderful qualities they had, and lay it out in full detail: what they meant to us and how they touched our lives.

...

If you didn't get it already, I'm being highly sarcastic. This is a field that I feel pretty un-norwegian. I feel more like an american or italian, with all the feelings outside. Can you imagine that I have actually felt kind of guilty and ashamed after having given someone a compliment? Because it feels like I'm just bothering them? How silly is that. It's completely up side down. 

Allow me to be so arrogant and try and teach you something: When, or should I say IF (because it is not sure) you get a compliment, you should have a default reply, that comes without analyzing it, without taking the time to figure out if you agree on it or not — no — you should simply and IMMIDEIATELY say this following revolutionary reply: 

Thank you!

…

Now, I'm curious what you think — does any of this strike a familiar chord?
Feel free to comment and share your thoughts, reflections or quiet inner screams. I shall be most delighted to read them.

Thank you for reading,

Take care — and stay bold, curious, and "brutally" honest, if you know what I mean... lol

XO — Frøya