I started this nearly a year ago. Last September, in fact. Maybe it’s time to finish it up and post it. I’d like to empty out my drafts folder by actually publishing posts instead of deleting them.

I went to a concert once, and as I watched the lead singer, I paid less and less attention to his voice and more and more attention to his body language. His posture, his movements screamed to me how well he knew the crowd worshipped him. And he was right; we did. Obviously, since we’d all paid so much money simply to be in the same (gigantic) room with him. It was an amazing experience.

I met a man a few months ago who gives a similar impression. At first glance, simply statuesque–beautifully smooth, evenly toned skin; quick, blindingly bright smile; achingly graceful; tall, slim but strong; all of the physical traits a modeling agency would die for. Truly a gorgeous man.

He’s more than a pretty face.

The sincerity of his compliments is as far from Regina George as you can get. When he compliments someone, he means it. And, while he is a salesman, it’s not a salesman’s hollow compliment. It’s an offering of a piece of his own self-confidence, handed to you on a silver platter, ready to be instilled in your own heart as it is in his.

Please tell me you’ve received such a compliment. They’re few and far between, but their meaningfulness more than makes up for their scarcity.

And yet.

Does a compliment from an attractive person have more intrinsic value than a compliment of similar caliber from an unattractive person?

It’s easy to deny our own negative traits; it seems more than second nature to blurt out banalities like I’m not racist or I don’t judge anyone or even the stunningly cliched beauty is only skin deep. How many people consider such phrases before their utterance? I’ll wager far too few.

There are compliments and then there are compliments. Like anything else. 

I hope your next compliment is complementary.


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