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Learning to Accept Compliments

Why ADHD brains struggle to hold onto praise - and how we can learn to let it in.


A few weeks ago, a client sent me a beautiful thank-you note. They shared that a single conversation with me shifted the way they related to their husband and that the change had already made their relationship feel lighter and more connected.


It was the kind of message every helping professional hopes to receive. A clear, warm testimonial. Something I should be able to post proudly.

And yet? I froze.


Was it bragging to share it? Was it self-promotion? Was it allowed? Should I soften it? Shorten it? Hide it?


In my head, I couldn’t tell the difference between “celebrating meaningful feedback” and “bragging about myself.” Even writing about it here, my stomach clenches a little.


This is the complicated truth: receiving compliments is delightful… and also a minefield.

Illustration of a purple duck on lavender water with pink feet, set against a pastel purple background. The scene is calm and whimsical.
Accepting praise on the outside… while paddling wildly on the inside

The Duck on the Water: Why Praise Feels So Exposed


When someone compliments me — a kind comment after a presentation, a Facebook message, even a quick “this really helped me!” - I light up. I get giddy. Proud. Grateful.


And then, almost immediately, the second wave hits.

It's the duck metaphor: On the surface, I may look calm and collected, but under the water? My legs are flailing. I’m paddling so hard I might drown.


So when people tell me I did something well, my brain rushes to correct the record:

  • “You don’t know how much I struggled to get here.”

  • “You don’t see the chaos behind the scenes.”

  • “I messed up 14 times on the way to this.”


The compliment lands and my brain swats it away, pointing to the invisible underwater churn.


And Then Comes the Guilt…


Here’s the part I’ve been too embarrassed to admit:

When someone sends me a heartfelt note, I love it… and then feel a wave of guilt for all the times I didn’t send similar notes to the people who helped me.


A client wrote that my prospective memory course changed how they understand their own mind — and that our follow-up session gave them clarity they’ve been waiting years to feel.


It meant the world.


But within seconds, my brain whispered:

  • “You never wrote to that one professor who changed your career path.”

  • “Remember that author whose book shifted your thinking — did you ever thank them?”

  • “You should be better at this.”


Suddenly, their gratitude became a mirror reflecting what I haven’t done. ADHD brains are spectacular at noticing what’s missing, not what’s working.


The Real Struggle: We Track the Negatives, Not the Wins


I know - in theory - that I should keep a folder of compliments. A “Wins Folder.” A “Nice Things People Said” album. A “Why I Do This Work” stash I can return to when I’m exhausted.


But between knowing and doing, there’s a canyon.


And even if I created the folder, could I find it later? Would I open it? Would I remember it exists? Would I trust it?


We are excellent at remembering our mistakes.

We are terrible at remembering our successes.


ADHD makes positive feedback slippery. It doesn’t stick. Our brains aren’t great at internalizing “Yes, that was good,” but they can replay a single misstep for twenty years.


So How Do We Hold Compliments Without Self-Criticism?


I wish I had the perfect answer - I don’t. But here’s what I’m trying:


1. Practice calling compliments “data,” not “ego.”

A testimonial is not bragging. It’s information about impact.


2. Acknowledge the underwater paddling without letting it steal the moment.

Both can be true :I worked hard and I did a good job.


3. Allow the guilt to be there without letting it define you.

Most people aren’t writing thank-you letters either.


4. Create a “Kind Words” folder — even if you lose it sometimes.

The act of saving the message is the win, not the perfect retrieval system.


5. Ask others: How do you track your wins?

I genuinely want to know. If you have a system, a ritual, a shortcut - teach me.

If you’ve ever felt awkward, overwhelmed, guilty, or suspicious when receiving praise — you’re in good company. How do you hold onto the positive without letting the negative take over? Do you track compliments? Do you save them? Do you ignore them? Do you struggle to share them?

I’d love to hear what works for you — and maybe we can build a better system together.


Daniella


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