I don’t deal very well with compliments. I can dish them out but I can’t take them. Rather than just being gracious, I often find myself trying to introspectively debunk a compliment rather than just accept it. No doubt, I completely over-think it but I wonder, is this emblematic of the self-doubt most parents face? Ultimately, I come to my senses and just accept the compliment but in the meantime, I seem to question every bit of it in much greater depth than any casual comment should ever warrant. With this in mind, here is a bit of a case study showing the lengthy thought process of an overly introspective and sometimes regrettably cynical stay-at-home dad:
Once in a while, I am told by a complete stranger that I am a “good dad.” Bear in mind, I don’t even feel very comfortable admitting that this happens since it sounds invariably like bragging, but my deconstruction here will show that I derive more far more shame than pride by doing so. In any case, complaining about compliments may forever brand me as an ungracious jerk, but perhaps that’s exactly what I have become.
There are a few ways my über-cynicism can deflect such an innocuous compliment as “you’re a good dad.” The first is to simply dismiss it, letting my own reflexive self-doubt discount such a nicety. I may think to myself, “I look like a good dad right now, but I’ll look quite different at the end of the day when the kids are running around crazed and I’m just trying frantically to get dinner ready.” This is always an easy deflection, as I assume this friendly stranger is just catching a glimpse of me at the top of my game. Anyone can look like a great parent at the right moment, just as great parents can look awful if you catch them at the height of their frustration.
Another way to deflect such a compliment is to question its inspiration. Here is where my cynicism can get a bit convoluted depending which direction I take it. Am I seen as a good parent just because my kids aren’t being disruptive or running around? If so, does having compliant kids really make me a good parent or rather just an effective disciplinarian? If the latter, is that even a good thing or might I be raising followers that will never question abusive authority later in life? See? I told you I don’t deal well with compliments.
Yet another way to deflect this is to question the perspective of the source. This is where I switch gears from self-centered to radical cynic. As nice and genuine as a comment may be, I wonder if a mother would get the same compliment. Is it that I’m simply seen as a good dad by some because of (albeit diminishing) social norms that expect fathers to be less hands-on than mothers? If so, I resent the implication rather than appreciating what is almost certainly just a nice compliment. But if it’s true that the same person wouldn’t make a similar compliment to a mother, then am I wrong? I strive to be a good parent, and if the prevailing expectations for fathers are less than for mothers, then I have somehow managed to interpret what may be a genuine compliment as an insult instead. My special blend of egocentrism and self-doubt then yields an unspoken judgment on a stranger who has gone out of his/her way to pay me a compliment. My cynicism seemingly knows no bounds.
To be clear, it’s not that I think I’m a bad father. I believe I’m a pretty good one, actually, though it’s a distinction that will ebb and flow over the course of any given day. At some points I’m definitely too hard on myself but at other times, I’m probably far too conceited. Whatever the implications may be to my vacillating confidence and the mood-driven seesaw battle between egomania and cynicism, I do get past it. Once I work this all out in my head, I can conclude the absurdity of my introspection (as writing about it has accomplished here), and just accept that a nice person gave me a warm and unsolicited compliment. If I choose to mangle it into something sinister, that’s entirely on me. Maybe I’m a good dad. Maybe I’m a good parent. Maybe I’m a horrible person. In any case, by acknowledging these possibilities, I can improve regardless.
I don’t do these things to beat myself up, though perhaps I’m rationalizing. Instead, I simply try to think critically about anything I do, whether it’s my budgeting, grocery shopping, or my personal behavior, so that I can always seek improvement. I can’t teach critical thinking skills to my kids if I don’t first possess them myself. And, since we all strive to give our kids the best things in life, shouldn’t our best selves be at the top of that list?
Stuck with Dad 