“Wow, you did an amazing job.”
You force a smile, feel your shoulders rise a little too high, and mumble something like “oh, it was nothing.”
Your heart is beating faster than the situation justifies, and your brain is already searching for ways to disqualify the compliment.

On paper, you should be happy.
In your body, it feels almost like an alarm going off.
We’ve all been there, that moment when someone praises you and your first instinct is to escape.
It’s almost as if the words “well done” are pointing a flashlight at a part of you that doesn’t want to be seen.
Why would something positive feel so strangely threatening?
Why praise can feel like a spotlight you don’t want
Some people soak up compliments like sunshine.
Others feel like they’ve just been dragged onto a stage without a script.
If your stomach tightens when someone admires your work, your outfit, or your personality, you’re not just being “shy”.
Psychologists see a recurring pattern behind this reaction.
When praise hits a hidden sore spot, it doesn’t land as kindness.
It lands as pressure, expectation, or even suspicion.
The warm words touch a belief you rarely say out loud: “I’m not really what they think I am.”
Picture this.
Your manager says in front of the team: “You saved this project, honestly.”
Everyone turns toward you, smiling.
You nod, blush, say thank you, and mentally replay every mistake you made along the way.
On your commute home, you feel tense, not proud.
You scroll on your phone to distract yourself and tell a friend: “They’re exaggerating, I just got lucky.”
Research calls this “impostor feelings”: people who perform well but secretly feel like frauds.
Praise doesn’t reassure them.
It just raises the stakes.
The bar moves up a little higher, the fear of being exposed grows a little louder.
Psychology often links this discomfort with one core belief about yourself: that you are fundamentally “not enough”.
Not smart enough, not talented enough, not kind enough, not worthy enough.
When someone praises you, their words collide with this inner script.
Your mind tries to resolve the mismatch.
Some people do it by rejecting the compliment outright.
Others laugh it off, minimize, or quickly redirect the attention to someone else.
Deep down, the logic is simple and brutal: if they see me as good, and I believe I’m not good, then one of us is wrong.
And you quietly decide that the one who’s wrong… is you.
What your reaction to praise reveals about your inner story
There’s a small, practical experiment you can try the next time someone compliments you.
Don’t change what you say, just pay attention to what you think.
Do you instantly want to justify the praise with a list of reasons?
Do you mentally correct the person: “If only you knew how messy my process really is”?
Note the first silent sentence that appears in your mind.
That automatic thought is often the purest version of your belief about yourself.
*It shows you the hidden headline your brain runs every day, almost on autopilot.*
A young designer I interviewed told me she would literally feel heat in her ears when receiving positive feedback.
In college, she’d get top grades but explain them away with “easy assignments” or “lenient professors.”
At her first job, every “great work” from her boss triggered the same inner monologue:
“They just haven’t seen my flaws yet.”
What changed things for her wasn’t more praise.
It was finally naming the belief sitting underneath: “I am only valuable when I overperform.”
Once she saw that sentence clearly, the discomfort around compliments suddenly made sense.
They didn’t just acknowledge what she did.
They threatened to expose that she was running on fear.
Psychologists talk about “self-schema”: the mental template you carry about who you are.
If your core schema is “I’m average at best,” praise feels almost like a factual error.
Your brain prefers consistency over comfort.
So it bends reality to protect that old belief, even when it hurts you.
This is why you might reframe a compliment as pity, manipulation, or politeness.
Or why you focus obsessively on the one negative comment in a sea of positive ones.
Let’s be honest: nobody really does this every single day with full awareness.
Most of the time, it’s fast, automatic, and invisible.
You just feel “off” when people are nice to you and assume that’s your personality.
In many cases, it’s actually your belief system flinching.
How to rewrite the belief that makes praise feel dangerous
One simple gesture can start shifting this inner script: separate the *fact* of the compliment from the *story* you tell about it.
Next time someone praises you, mentally break it into two steps.
Step one: pause, breathe, and say a simple “thank you,” even if it feels awkward.
Step two: later, in private, write down exactly what you were praised for.
Then ask: “Is there any small, concrete truth in this?”
Not “do I fully deserve it,” just “is there a grain of accuracy here?”
That tiny yes is already a crack in the belief that you’re fundamentally not enough.
Another powerful move is to notice the urge to argue against compliments.
That inner lawyer who rushes in with counter-evidence is defending your old identity, not protecting you.
Instead of battling people’s praise, get curious about your resistance.
Where did you first learn that being seen was risky?
Who taught you, directly or indirectly, that modesty meant shrinking yourself?
This isn’t about forcing yourself to “love” compliments.
It’s about observing your reactions with kindness, rather than judging them.
You’re not broken for feeling weird when someone is kind to you.
You’re responding to rules you once needed to survive.
Sometimes the biggest emotional shift is not from “I hate compliments” to “I love compliments,”
but from “compliments expose me” to “compliments say something real about how others experience me.”
- Name the belief
Write down the sentence that appears in your head after praise (“I don’t deserve this,” “they’re just being nice”).
Seeing it in black and white reduces its power. - Test it gently
Collect small pieces of evidence that both support and contradict that belief.
This isn’t a trial, it’s an honest inventory. - Practice neutral acceptance
You don’t have to feel joy.
Aim for a simple, calm “thank you” instead of a panicked explanation. - Share the discomfort with someone safe
Naming your reaction aloud (“compliments make me weirdly nervous”) often lowers the shame.
You realize you’re far from the only one. - Redefine what praise means
See it less as a verdict on your worth and more as a snapshot of how your effort reached someone.
That small shift can change the whole emotional charge.
Letting praise in without losing yourself
Discomfort with praise isn’t a personality flaw, it’s a clue.
It points toward long-standing beliefs about value, visibility, and what you’re allowed to receive.
You don’t have to swing to the opposite extreme and become someone who chases compliments.
The real freedom is quieter: being able to let a kind word land without needing to run, justify, or shrink.
When someone says, “You did great,” you don’t have to believe you’re extraordinary.
You only have to allow the possibility that, in that moment, something you did genuinely mattered to them.
That your effort, presence, or talent had an impact beyond your inner critic’s story.
Over time, those small moments of acceptance can start rewriting the old belief that you’re “not enough.”
Not in a dramatic, overnight revelation, but in dozens of tiny, almost boring repetitions.
And one day, you might notice that praise doesn’t feel like a spotlight anymore.
It feels more like a window: a brief view of how others already see you, while you’re still learning to see yourself that way.
A polar vortex disruption is on the way, and its magnitude is almost unheard of in February
| Key point | Detail | Value for the reader |
|---|---|---|
| Discomfort with praise signals a core belief | Often linked to “I’m not enough” or “I’m a fraud” self-schema | Helps readers understand they’re not just “awkward”, they’re reacting to an inner script |
| Noticing automatic thoughts is a first step | Observing the first silent sentence after a compliment reveals hidden beliefs | Gives a concrete, doable method to spot and name their inner narrative |
| Small shifts change the relationship to praise | Practicing neutral “thank you”, journaling, and gentle testing of beliefs | Offers practical tools to feel less threatened and more at ease with positive feedback |
FAQ:
- Why do I feel almost anxious when someone compliments me?Because the compliment may clash with a deep belief that you’re not as capable or worthy as others think, your nervous system reacts as if you’re being exposed rather than appreciated.
- Is disliking praise the same as low self-esteem?Not always, but they often overlap. You can function well and even be confident in some areas, yet still carry an inner story that makes positive feedback feel unsafe.
- How can I respond to compliments if they make me uncomfortable?Start with a simple “thank you” and pause there. Resist the urge to explain, apologize, or downgrade yourself. Over time, this short response becomes easier.
- Will accepting praise make me arrogant?Genuinely arrogant people rarely worry about becoming arrogant. Allowing kind words to land doesn’t erase your humility, it just balances your self-perception.
- When should I think about seeing a therapist about this?If praise triggers strong anxiety, shame, or self-sabotage, or if impostor feelings are affecting your work, relationships, or sleep, talking to a professional can help untangle the deeper beliefs underneath.
