When I was younger I wasn’t able to tolerate any type of praise. I would apologize and belittle it, and I was always convinced some sort of mistake had been made. Now: not so much.
Now, I am like a dog.. If you tell me that I did good for getting the ball, I will go get it again and again and again – no matter which thorny bush you throw it into.. This is actually extremely embarrassing when you think about it, because (like so much else I do) it just goes to show an incredibly small amount of self worth. Or an ego that is incredibly large (but that’s a story for another day).
I have a theory that all of my bad self esteem goes back to that time in 2nd grade when we were playing pigerne efter drengene which translated directly means the girls after the boys. The rules were pretty simple: the girls had to try to catch the boys and when they did, they kissed them.
The boys of course had to pretend that they thought it was extremely disgusting, but all around the playground you saw guys tripping, running into a girl by mistake or just running in an absurdly slow fashion. Except the guys who were running from me. I can still see the fright in their eyes as they were running for their lives, rather risking to sprain a muscle than a kiss from me – and through that entire summer of pigerne efter drengene I never got to kiss one boy.
All through my life, no matter how successful or attractive I later become, I have still had that image in my head of Niclas, who I believe was my #1 crush at the time, running like a madman to avoid getting kissed by me. But praise makes the image blurry. Getting told I am good at something makes me feel that even if Niclas wouldn’t want to kiss me I am at least appreciated for being the person who will always get the ball.
