Today the most surprising thing happened. I was walking through Bath city centre when a complete stranger stopped me, apologised for bothering me but said they just wanted to say how glamorous I looked.
Blimey. I was so taken aback that I just smiled, stuttered out a brief thank you and we went our separate ways. I later tweeted and posted about the encounter on Facebook adding 'presumably they were on the way to Specsavers.'
Is it just me or are there others out there like me who find it hard to accept a compliment? I can graciously accept any compliment about my writing, (I positively beam if anyone says nice things about my blog), but the minute someone says anything even vaguely favourable about my appearance, grace goes out the window and I cover up being flustered with self deprecating humour.
I've always been the same. I've ruined many a romantic moment with my inability to take a compliment. I was once told by a man, who happened to be gazing into my eyes at the time, that I had 'beautiful eyes', that they were such a 'lovely colour'. Did I just smile enigmatically and thank him? Oh no, smartass me piped up 'yep, muddy puddle colour eyes, that's me.' (They're green). See what I mean? Just can't keep my mouth shut.
I'm good at giving compliments. I'll often comment when I think someone is looking great but when it's me on the receiving end, it's a different matter. Hopeless. If a friend tells me I look good in a certain dress, it's a dead cert that I'll come out with something along the lines of 'it's got plenty of stretch, it needs it to cope with my arse.'
I have no idea why being complimented on how I look makes me uncomfortable, but it does. Today's totally unexpected compliment so took me by surprise that I didn't have the time to open my mouth and come out with some chippy comment. I wasn't able to spoil what was just a very nice moment, something that made me smile and feel perky all day.
It's not the only compliment I've had recently. The 11-year-old and I were talking the other day about the fact I was going out that evening to my Rosemary Conley diet and fitness class, or Fat Club as I like to call it.
'You know what Mum,' he said in a musing kind of way, 'it really wouldn't matter how fat you were, you'll always be a stick to me.'
Now that's my kind of compliment!
