The man pursuing me is 41, enthusiastic, and apparently very impressed. Almost every day we interact, he tells me some version of the same thing: “You are SO AMAZING.” Sometimes it’s the quieter edition: “I just think you are amazing.”
I know these are supposed to be lovely things to hear. He means them as compliments. But somewhere in the repetition, I’ve stopped feeling appreciated and started feeling nervous.
Amazing is a lot to live up to when I’m still trying to figure out whether I like someone.
I’m imperfect in ordinary, plentiful ways. I can be irritable. I don’t always know what I want. Right now, what I want is enough room to notice how I feel around him without also feeling responsible for maintaining his excellent opinion of me.
Instead, the praise puts me on edge. Another glowing declaration arrives, and I feel pressure to be the person he seems so certain I am. Then I get irritated, which is hardly the romantic effect either of us was hoping for.
There’s something awkward about being admired this intensely before my own feelings have caught up. He sounds settled. I’m still looking around.
I recognize the impulse because I’ve done it, too: thought someone was wonderful, then kept telling them, assuming more admiration could only be better. Being on the receiving end has made that assumption look a little less reliable.
An occasional compliment might have room to land. These arrive so regularly that I’m bracing for the next one. I’d like to enjoy his company and find out what develops. It’s difficult to do that while being introduced, almost daily, to the amazing woman I’m apparently supposed to be.
