I don’t like praise – and the reason may surprise you

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be seen.

Not in the shallow, performative way. Not in the “gather likes and followers” kind of way.

But in the way that makes your chest tighten—because someone reflected something back to you that you weren’t sure you were ready to own.


Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it’s terrifying. Lately, for me, it’s been both. Because it’s not that I’m afraid of being misunderstood.

It’s that I’m afraid of being seen in a way that’s too idealized.


Too curated. Too shiny.

Like someone’s put a frame around me and called it clarity, when really it’s just a highlight reel of traits they admire. And suddenly, I feel the pressure to stay in frame.

I don’t want to be admired. I want to be mirrored.


Not elevated. Reflected.

Not simplified. Understood.

Because when people only see the strong, wise, grounded version of me, I feel like I have to become a performance of myself just to hold their perception.


And that’s not connection. That’s disconnection dressed up as praise.

There’s something quiet and dangerous about being put on a pedestal—especially when you’ve spent your life learning how to track tone, energy, and emotional nuance to survive.

Because once you’re up there, every human moment feels like a fall.

Every hesitation feels like betrayal. Every slip feels like failure.

That’s what I’ve been holding lately.

This tension between wanting to be seen fully and fearing what happens when people see only the parts they like best.

I’ve also realized that I tend to push away praise unless it comes with something to work on.

If someone says something kind but doesn’t include feedback, I don’t fully trust it. I assume it’s flattery. Or politeness. Or just… noise. But maybe I’ve been trying to earn connection when I’m already in it.

Maybe not every mirror has to come with a measuring stick.


Maybe I’m allowed to be seen, even when I’m not performing my worthiness in real time.

I’m learning to hold kindness without conditions.

To stay grounded without disappearing.

To lead without needing to be flawless.

You don’t need to perform someone else’s version of you. But you do need to stay honest about the version you’re embodying.

Grounded doesn’t mean self-justified. It means clear. Curious. Willing to look again.

Being seen doesn’t require perfection. But it does require responsibility.

That’s where I’m leading from now.

Not from a stage. Not from a pedestal.

Just from the ground. With both feet planted. Real. Present. Human.

From my heart to yours,
Avery

P.S. If you’ve felt yourself shrinking under the weight of someone else’s admiration, or pushing away praise because it doesn’t feel safe—this is the kind of work I do 1:1. We explore 

  • What it means to be seen without performance.
  • To lead without a pedestal.
  • To stay grounded in who you are without contorting to stay palatable.

If that’s where you are, or where you’re heading, you can learn more about working with me here.

We don’t need to be perfect to lead.

We just need to stay honest—and connected.