Direct Mail: Compliments and Creepers
Hi Ernio,
Sometimes I make strangers nervous. I’m not a creep or anything — at least, no more than average (whatever that means to you) — but I give out compliments freely, especially when they’re staring at me in the face. I want to say something about a woman’s beautiful eyebrow arch, the scattered freckles on her arms, or the way a bartender positions the rosemary on my drink, carefully, gracefully. So I say something. Some people are surprised at this tiny kindness and they give me an excited, genuine thank you; some people are weirded out by my candor and simply mutter a quick “thanks”, refusing to meet my eye for the rest of our interaction. I guess to those people, I am an above average creep.
I’ve always been a little obsessed with beauty, and I point it out constantly. It pains me when beautiful people, beautiful habits, beautiful words, live their life unacknowledged and unappreciated. That is one of the reasons I wrote the essay about my mother, a woman beautiful in a quiet sense that sometimes makes it easier to dismiss.
When I read your letter, I turned about 18 different shades of red. Not that I don’t get compliments, but they tend to come from the people closest to me — my husband, my friends, old professors and editors, my family. I am new to compliments from internet strangers, especially when it’s about my writing and not about my latest (strategically taken) #selfie. It was such a wonderful letter to read, even more so a couple of months after I left my full-time job to take a stab at this writing deal. I guess my point is, I think it’s a great thing to appreciate someone for their talents.
People’s definition of “beauty” varies, and to me, beautiful is many different things. Talent is one of them, and I believe a person can be talented in big, obvious ways and they can be talented at small things that only a few people might be lucky enough to witness. When you write about your wife, I can tell you know her small talents as much as the obvious ones, and I’m guessing from your letter that you show her appreciation constantly. This makes me happy, and your explanation of your “type” does, too. It’s clear to me that we’re very similar in the way we’re attracted to others.
My husband and I were never just friends, like you and your wife were. We met at a bar and I took him home that same night, drunk and happy. I’ve never been ashamed of how we met, although some people are ashamed enough for me — apparently, saying your husband was a potential one night stand is not the prettiest love story. I love our story because it’s honest, and even under the dangerous influence of rum, gin, and Gods-know-what-else, I saw something in him that February night. He was funny. He was kind. He was clever and smart and remarkably intelligent. I remember this, from our hours-long conversation in a balcony at an after party. That is when I decided I wanted him. At the time, I didn’t know for how long.
You say you envy your wife’s sense of humor — this is so great. I love when men appreciate women’s sense of humor and brag about it, to boot. My husband is talented at making people laugh. He and I have completely different types of humor — I am sarcastic and dry, my husband is silly and goofy. I loved this about him immediately, because he brings light everywhere he goes. In the time we’ve been married I have discovered other little talents and skills, and he surprises me each morning in the smallest, quiet ways of modest, selfless people.
I hope you continue to appreciate others and — most importantly — you let them know they have affected you, in small ways and big, whether it’s friends and family or a total stranger. Some might think you’re an above average creep, but in my experience, it’s worth the risk.
Please tell your wife your Medium girlfriend says hello.
Sincerely,
P.S. I’ve never had to say, “My eyes are up here” because I have very small (albeit lovely) boobs.
Direct Mail is a collective of friends sharing candid, intimate thoughts in the original form of communication: letters. No postage necessary.
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