Toby the Tenor

A friend called Martin once observed me being complimented at the stage door of English National Opera following a performance. I thought I was being diffident and personable as I batted away the kind words. My embarrassment was part genuine and part solution to the problem of getting past the compliment without enjoying it and seeming big headed. 

Later, Martin picked me up on my reaction to the person complimenting me. 

“You haven’t learnt to take a compliment yet, have you. It’s hilarious watching you squirm and try to push it back at that poor lady.”

“Really? How so?”

“When you react like that you think you’re being modest and charming, don’t you?”

“Am I not being?”

“No. What you’re telling people when you react like that is that you don’t value their opinion.”

“Oh.” This had genuinely never crossed my mind and I was surprised to be on the receiving end of his robust feedback. Martin is a good friend who happens to be an actor. I trust him for his insights as an experienced performer and intelligent empath. “I actually hate it when people compliment me. It’s a lack of self worth or an impostor thing. What should I do instead?”

“Really? You want to know?”

I nodded.

“I once went with Judy Dench’s daughter to a play her mother was headlining. Afterwards in her dressing room, her reaction to me saying how terrific she was, and she WAS knock-it-out-the-park TER-RIF-FIC, taught me how to take a compliment.”

“Go on.”

“After I shuffled into her dressing room and nervously said I thought she was really really good, her face lit up. She looked at me and said “Really? Was I? How kind of you Martin. Thank you.” She then turned to her late husband and said “Michael, Michael, did you hear that? Finty’s friend Martin said the kindest thing to me.” I was bowled over by how much my not-very-imaginative appraisal had meant to her. Her reaction made me feel special. I glowed all the way home like the Ready Brek kid. That’s how to take a compliment.”

Here endeth the lesson.