It’s a button I have. My husband found it one day when we were wandering through a store. He bought it for me as a joke. It works for me. I wear it proudly, albeit somewhat self-consciously. The truth is – and you can ask anyone in my immediate family about this and they’ll agree – I like praise.
Okay, so maybe I’m a praise-junkie. Maybe I thrive on hearing good things – about the world and about myself – more than a “normal” person would. But then what’s normal? And who’s normal? When I was in college I had a button that said, “Why be normal?” Guess I’m still not.
Praise feels good. That’s my belief anyway. It feels nice to hear nice things, and it feels nice to say nice things. I like pointing out to others what I love and appreciate about them, and I like hearing what they love and appreciate about me. Often. Some might say too often, but I might disagree.
I know not everyone wants, or likes, to be praised. I don’t necessarily get it, but I know it. Maybe they just don’t like it as much as I do. Because in my heart of hearts, I think we all might feel better if we got stroked every now and then…and perhaps more often than not. But I can admit that not everyone feels that way.
But maybe everyone else has something else that they like. That strokes them. That works for them. I’m there wanting praise, throwing out praise, and showering others with praise, when maybe what they really want is for me to run an errand for them. Or spend time with them. Or keep them company, or hold their hand, as they tackle a challenge. Or maybe a hug makes some people feel better, instead of praise. Who am I kidding? I’m probably a hug-junkie too. I always want a hug from someone I love.
I’m not embarrassed by admitting I like praise. And I’m not embarrassed by asking for it when I think it will help me feel better, or get me through a tough time. I know that not everyone is comfortable with my wanting it, or asking for it, but it still works for me.
I need praise. Lie if you must. What do you need?