Inspired
Last Sunday, twenty or so women sat on the floor in a circle; it was the “getting to know a little about each other” part of the workshop. But on top of introducing ourselves and telling everyone what we like and what we do, our dance teacher asked us to say something positive about the person to our right, something physical since we all just met. My hair being one of my greatest insecurities, I liked the long straight brown locks of the person next to me — a far cry from my short wispy, wavy black hair.
The person to my left soon introduced herself and then proceeded to tell me what she liked about me. She liked the contrast between my dark hair and lashes and my light skin tone. Nobody has ever said that about me, and to be completely honest, that made me feel really good about myself.
It made me think about the compliments I’ve received in the past, which are few and far between, but I remember them always. I think it’s time to write them down so I could come back to it whenever I need cheering up (and today is definitely one of those days).
The first one was in high school. A friend (someone I’ve known for only a few months then) wrote me a letter (in her perfect cursive handwriting on bright-orange paper) and said she likes my simplicity, and admires me for being myself, and that I inspire her to be herself, someone who doesn’t wear makeup. With the way she worded it, she made being plain a desirable trait. It was interesting because I’ve always felt plain — in a bad way. She said I was plain — in a good way. It was the first compliment I’ve received, and it came from someone cheerful and pleasant to be with and who seemed to always have a positive outlook in life.
I got my second one at the age of fifteen when a good guy friend said, mid-conversation, “I didn’t know your eyes were beautiful.” I think I made a weird “you’re lying” facial expression, dumbstruck by the suddenness of his remark, but this I would carry with me for the rest of my life. That same year, another good friend (whom I still email to greet during holidays and birthdays) told me through a letter that I put others ahead of myself. It was surprising to know that someone thought of me that way.
Growing up, I had severe acne, which lasted in my twenties. A big chunk of my salary went to the dermatologist and facial centers. Once after dance class, I told my teacher I was on my way to the dermatologist when she asked why. “To get a skin treatment,” I answered. “Why?” she asked in a genuinely confused tone. “To clear up my skin. I’ve got acne.” I could see the puzzled look in her eyes as she responded with, “Why? It doesn’t bother me. Why don’t you spend your money on activities you’d like to do?” As someone who had constantly been told, “You have so many pimples” (as if I didn’t already know) and asked, “Why do you have acne?” and randomly given advice on how to take care of my skin, which I never asked for, it was so uplifting to hear the words, “It doesn’t bother me.” While there’s absolutely nothing wrong with getting facials and other skin treatments (I still get them sometimes), her last question made me realize my life’s too short to not explore and try as many things as my budget would allow. Who cares about those who’d be bothered by my acne?
This last one happened last year when two of my college friends and I were hanging out in a café. Looking at the menu, I announced that I might be getting the orange-flavored hot chocolate (or something like that). The friend sitting beside me unexpectedly said, “You know what I like about you? You’re not afraid to try new things. And you finish everything you start. Like your belly dancing.” Our other friend wholeheartedly agreed. Again, it was surprising to hear because to me, while I’m good at starting things, I’m not so good at finishing them. In fact, I’m great at abandoning them. Still, her comments made feel like I’ve achieved success.
The compliments I’ve gotten over the years inspire me to show my true self without fear of judgment, to appreciate my traits and to change for myself and not for other people. They also inspire me to see the good in others and, most important of all, to practice expressing it.
One-word prompt: Inspired
