If you struggle to take compliments, psychology says you probably share these 8 subtle traits

Be honest: what do you do when someone praises you?

Do you shrug it off? Joke it away? Change the subject?

Most of us think the “compliment problem” is about humility. In reality, it’s often about psychology — how we see ourselves, what we learned about worth growing up, and the mental habits we run on autopilot.

Here are 8 subtle traits I keep seeing (in myself and my readers) that make it strangely hard to accept kind words.

None of these mean anything is “wrong” with you. They’re just patterns. Once you notice them, you can train new ones.

1. Your self-image doesn’t match the praise (self-discrepancy)

Compliments rub the wrong way when they collide with your internal picture of who you are.

If your “actual self” (“I’m average at my job”) clashes with your “ought self” (“I should be flawless”) or “ideal self” (“I want to be brilliant”), praise can feel like a lie—even when it’s true.

Psychologist E. Tory Higgins called this self-discrepancy. Different gaps predict different emotional reactions: guilt, shame, agitation, even a weird urge to argue with the person who just said something nice.

When your inside map and outside feedback don’t line up, your nervous system treats it like an error to fix—by deflecting.

Try this: when someone compliments you, don’t debate it. Breathe. Say “thank you,” then add one sentence that links the praise to an effort you value (“I’ve been practicing that, so I appreciate you noticing”).

Over time, your “actual” and “ideal” selves start shaking hands.

2. You’re wired for consistency over positivity (self-verification)

Most people assume we chase feel-good feedback. But another motive often wins: we crave consistency.

If you believe you’re awkward, you unconsciously prefer feedback that confirms it — even if it stings.

That’s self-verification in a nutshell: the drive to have others see us the way we already see ourselves. It’s why sincere compliments can feel uncomfortable or suspicious.

I’ve talked about this before, but it’s powerful: the goal isn’t to feel worthy before accepting compliments; it’s to accept compliments as raw data that can help reshape a stale self-image.

Try this: when praise lands and your brain says “that’s not me,” label it: “Oh—self-verification at work.” Noticing the motive turns a reflex into a choice.

3. Perfectionism makes you discount the positive

If your standards live at the summit of Mount Impossible, anything less feels unworthy.

Perfectionism trains you to scan for errors and ignore evidence that you’re doing well.

So a compliment isn’t “true”—it’s “polite,” “uninformed,” or “premature.”

Here’s the reframe that helped me: perfectionism is often a strategy to manage fear (of failure, judgment, or loss of control).

Compliments poke that fear because they imply a standard you’re not sure you can keep meeting.

Try this: practice “good-enough” reps. When someone praises a draft, resist the urge to list its flaws.

Ask one question instead: “What part worked best for you?” You’ll gather useful signal without feeding the flaw-scanner.

4. Your brain’s negativity bias won’t let the good stick

Human brains prioritize threats.

We weigh criticism more heavily than praise, remember slights longer than support, and analyze negative feedback in greater detail.

Psychologists call this the negativity bias, and it shows up across relationships, learning, and self-evaluation. This is a big reason compliments feel like water on a non-stick pan—they slide off fast.

Try this: “install” the compliment. Rick Hanson calls it taking in the good: pause for 10–20 seconds and let the words land in your body. Replay the moment once or twice later the same day.

You’re not being vain; you’re balancing your brain’s default settings.

5. You’re afraid of the social “debt” of receiving

Some of us were trained to over-give and under-receive. If compliments create a sense of obligation—“now I owe them something”—you’ll dodge them to stay free.

Add cultural modesty norms (don’t stand out, don’t brag), and you’ve got the perfect storm for reflexive deflection.

This one hits home for me.

When I catch the urge to neutralize a compliment (“It was nothing”), I remember something Rudá said when we were talking about his book, Laughing in the Face of Chaos: receiving is part of integrity.

If you can’t let good land, you’ll over-compensate somewhere else.

The book inspired me to treat a simple “thank you” like an act of honesty, not arrogance.

Try this: practice the three-step receive:

1. “Thank you.”

2. Breathe (two seconds).

3. Optional: reflect the intention (“That means a lot coming from you”).
   That’s it. No apology, no self-deprecation, no ping-pong.

6. You’re running the “discounting the positive” thought habit

In cognitive-behavioral therapy, there’s a classic thinking trap: discounting the positive.

You minimize kind feedback (“they’re just being nice”), chalk success up to luck, and treat approval as meaningless unless it’s perfectly phrased or comes from a very specific person.

This isn’t honesty — it’s a mental filter.

If you only allow perfect evidence through, you’ll always feel starved for it.

Try this: keep a one-line “received” log. When someone says something warm, write it down verbatim. No qualifying or decoding. Review the list weekly. It’s a low-friction way to train your attention back to reality.

7. Attachment insecurity makes praise feel risky

If you lean anxious, compliments can feel like the calm before abandonment—“they’ll realize I’m not that great and leave.”

If you lean avoidant, praise can feel invasive or manipulative—“what do they want from me?”

Attachment patterns don’t doom you — they just color how you interpret signals of care. There’s strong evidence that perceived security shapes how we regulate emotion and connect with others.

The more secure you feel, the easier it is to let good things land without scanning for danger. 

Try this: name what praise brings up rather than pushing it away. “Hearing that makes me a little antsy—thanks for saying it, I’m letting it sink in.” You model vulnerability without dismissing the gift.

8. Impostor feelings tell you you’re “fooling” people

Struggling to accept compliments often rides with the impostor phenomenon — the sense that you’re one misstep from being exposed as a fraud.

You attribute wins to timing or luck, overwork to cover anxiety, and then downplay the result when people notice.

Impostor feelings are common (especially in high-pressure, competitive settings), and they distort how we read praise — like it’s dangerous attention instead of earned recognition.

The good news: normalizing it helps, as does tracking objective evidence of effort and growth.

Try this: separate outcome from identity. When someone compliments your presentation, reflect it to the process: “Thanks—rehearsing out loud for two nights made a difference.”

You defuse the “I’m a fraud” story without arguing with the compliment.

 

Final words

If compliments feel uncomfortable, you’re not broken — you’re human. A handful of invisible forces (self-discrepancy, self-verification, negativity bias, old attachment patterns) make praise tricky for a lot of us.

The work isn’t to become “confident enough” to deserve kind words; it’s to become present enough to receive them.

Next time someone says something generous, try the smallest possible experiment: pause, breathe, say “thank you.”

Notice the part of you that wants to push it away—and let it be there without running the show.

And if you want a deeper, slightly rebellious take on owning your worth without turning it into a performance, I found my friend Rudá Iandê’s Laughing in the Face of Chaos surprisingly grounding.

I’ve mentioned it before, and it nudged me toward a simple truth: receiving gracefully isn’t vanity — it’s an honest connection.

You’re allowed to let good things land. In fact, your relationships need you to.