The Eye of the Heffalump

Yesterday I was paid what I thought at the time was a huge compliment. My boss’s boss guessed my age at twenty-six. Naturally this thirty-five-year old ego soared with appreciation. I even stated to him that my heart had “skipped at beat” at the sound of that guess and that I would be sure to tell my husband about it.

Upon reflection, I am now considering the following: what if he guessed my age as nine years younger because I have a penchant to act younger? What if his guess was based on the fact that I laugh at work, use humor to mask my discomfort and have a generally light hearted disposition that does not seem to be thirty five years old in its delivery? And the final question – why is it so hard for me to take a compliment at face value?

Often I have been in a position when I am the one issuing the compliment. If the recipient responds in a way that seems to reject the compliment, as in: “Oh, you don’t have to say that”, or “Oh, come on…” I just want to smack ‘em. I know that sounds awful, but say your good friend looks particularly saucy one day. Naturally, you would want to be sure and notice so you end up saying something like, “that color looks great on you”, or “nice rack”.

Well, I don’t know if I would go that far, but you get my drift.

Then, in true female fashion, the compliment recipient will reject any inference that she happens to look good. I always wondered – do women do this because we are not supposed to acknowledge the fact that we look good? Or, is there a cadre of women out there that do this on purpose in order to pull even more compliments out of you (“Don’t be silly – you always look very nice!”)?

Once again, I am baffled by my own sex and our behavioral patterns. Going into the female relationship with food would take pages and pages, the self image would take volumes, and how we even relate to one another is yet another ongoing mystery to me.

I’ll tell you this much, though: take a compliment, ladies - we are all worth it.