The Silent Sabotage of Flattering Words

There’s a kind of praise that doesn’t feel like love; it feels like a setup. It’s praise laced with poison.

I didn’t realize this was a thing until I slowed down and paid attention. The truth is, we will always find what we need to liberate us when we get quiet and observe. But before I learned to do that, I used to mistake every hand clap as encouragement, every smile as support, and every “you’d be great at this” as genuine belief in me.

But some praise doesn’t come from a pure place. Have you ever had someone constantly praising you for something you never said you wanted to do? They bring it up in every conversation, encouraging you to pursue it, even though you only ever treated it as a passing interest. And strangely enough, the things you know you’re truly good at, the passions that keep you up at night, they never mention those. Almost like they don’t see them… or maybe don’t want to.

I fell for this trap more times than I’d like to admit. I allowed praise to divert my course. I would start pursuing things that were never meant for me, simply because someone else seemed so convinced I’d succeed. And each time, I found myself frustrated, stuck, and ready to give up. At the time, I thought the problem was me. But one day, as I reflected on the pattern, the lightbulb came on.

These weren’t people who believed in me. These were people who praised me into positions where they secretly expected me to fail. They hyped me up, not because they thought I could do it, but because they were entertained by the idea of watching me fall. And when I succeeded anyway, because I do succeed when I don’t give up, war erupted. The same lips that once cheered were now spewing venom.

It’s a painful truth: the same ones who are rooting for you can also be the ones crucifying you when you actually win. The same family that doubted you can encourage you to try something they secretly hope you’ll fail at, only to grow cold and bitter when you succeed.

Praise, when it’s laced with poison, isn’t about you at all; it’s about them. About their need to feel superior, about their quiet resentment of your potential, about their desire to control your narrative. They will cheer for everything except the passions you pursue. Because your true calling threatens them in a way they can’t admit.

It’s pathetic. It’s sick. But it happens.

And that’s why discernment is everything. Not every cheer is pure, and not every word of encouragement is rooted in love. Sometimes the kindest thing you can do for yourself is to sift through the applause, listen closely for the tone beneath the words, and choose your path anyway. Because you don’t need their praise to validate your journey, you only need the courage to keep walking it.