The Shyness of Praise: Why Being Seen Feels So Uncomfortable

This month’s company sharing caught me off guard because I wasn’t prepared. I stood in front of the team, giving my usual update on what the tech team had been up to. Tech initiative and the upcoming mobile app. Sprint timelines. Rollout plans. A slightly longer-than-usual sharing, simply because there were many moving parts we’d pushed forward.

Then came the pause.

My boss shared with the team and said, “I don’t know how you did it, but I can see you’ve made tremendous growth in terms of communication. I wasn’t sure you even knew it yourself. But having you handle the tech team, project manage these web platforms, and now the mobile app. It’s like a dream come true. It really feels like you’ve found your groove in this role.”

I smiled.

That’s all I could muster – a soft smile, barely visible. Inside, I felt like someone had pulled back a curtain I didn’t even know I was hiding behind.

Praise and the Quiet Storm Inside

I’m not new to hard work. I’m not new to ownership. But I am still learning how to handle being seen.

For someone like me (an INFJ), praise isn’t a reward. It’s a spotlight. And spotlights, while warm, are intense. They illuminate not just what we’ve done, but who we are becoming. That’s a vulnerable kind of light.

I think INFJs often thrive in quiet growth. We don’t seek applause, we seek alignment. We don’t broadcast our wins, we reflect on them in solitude. So when someone holds a mirror up to our evolution, it feels… a little exposed. A little too real.

Finding My Groove, Without Looking for It

The part that struck me most? “You’ve found your groove.”

Because I didn’t go looking for this groove. I didn’t plan to lead a tech team or coordinate across development sprints. I just answered when the problem arose. I stepped in. I bridged gaps. I turned confusion into clarity. Not because I had a roadmap, but because I cared enough to create one.

Maybe that’s how INFJs lead. We don’t walk in with the loudest voice. We build the structure, the rhythm, the quiet confidence that keeps things moving. We listen. We connect. We absorb the chaos and return it as flow.

So yes, maybe I did find my groove. But it wasn’t a groove I inherited, it was one I carved.

Growth Isn’t Always Loud

Growth is often invisible, until one day, someone points it out. Communication? That’s a skill I chiseled slowly, through Zoom calls, team syncs, misunderstood moments, and clearer ones that followed. I never claimed I was a natural. I just never stopped trying. We need healthy challenges to learn.

So when someone says “You’ve grown”, it hits harder than they think.

Because I have. But I didn’t realise just how much.

Why Praise Feels So Foreign

When people praise us, it feels like they’re reading the epilogue of a journey we’re still emotionally caught in. And for an INFJ, who internalises every step of that journey, hearing someone summarize it so warmly feels both validating… and overwhelming.

We don’t run from praise because we doubt our worth. We run because we’re still processing the path that got us here.

And yet, maybe that’s the exact moment we need to pause. To hear it. To accept it.

The Truth in the Mirror

What my boss said wasn’t just a compliment. It was a mirror. It reflected back something I hadn’t yet given myself permission to believe: that I’m not just surviving this tech coordination role.

I’m thriving in it.

And maybe, just maybe… it fits me more than I thought.

If you’re someone who shies away from praise, take this from me: Let it land. Let it teach you something you didn’t know about yourself.

And the next time someone says you’ve found your groove, don’t rush to move on.

Pause.

Smile.

And own it.