Accept the Nice

I have trouble accepting kindness directed my way. Generosity, compliments and all the normal kind stuff freak me out.

Chiquita tells me I need to “accept the nice.”

I think I must be defective, from the Island of Misfit Toys or something.

Here’s an example…it was said to me this week, “You look so pretty.” My brain goes, “Oh my God, what the hell does THAT mean? Is that sarcastic? Is this a trick? It’s probably a trick. It’s usually a trick. Pretty much always. Be a jerk about it. Shrug it off.”

Another example: “I’m going to figure you out.” And my brain goes, “The hell you are!” And alarms are sounding, battle stations are manned, it’s chaos, high alert.

I will work on accepting the nice, but for a little while, I’ll only accept it warily, like a feral cat accepts scraps: hesitant, on alert, then with intense focus.

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