Recently, I’ve found myself circling back to the importance of compliments.

A few seemingly unrelated conversations and encounters have left me thinking deeply about how often we hold back words that could lift someone up, and how much difference it makes when we don’t.

I’ve just spent a few days in Queensland with some Canadian friends who were visiting Australia for work.

They asked me about something they’d heard of while in our country called tall poppy syndrome.

“Is it really a thing?” they questioned.

“Do Australians actually cut each other down if they’re seen to be doing well?”

“Sadly, yes,” I told them.

For them, this was a baffling concept.

And honestly, when you see it from the outside, it is baffling.

I reflected on my own experiences travelling abroad with time spent living in the UK, and later, working with predominantly American customers on cruise ships in Alaska and the Caribbean.

Those years shaped me profoundly, especially my confidence.

Because here’s the thing about Americans: they compliment generously.

Maybe it’s the cheerleading ingrained in their culture, but they seem to have no hesitation in lifting others up.

They’ll go out of their way just to tell you how great you are.

Guests on the cruise ships would write glowing cards to the cruise director, naming me personally for making their holiday special.

After events, people would come up just to say they loved my hosting, or that I reminded them of their favourite presenter, Cat Deeley (huge compliment!).

Point is: they didn’t hold back.

Compliments flowed easily, with no fear of “inflating someone’s ego”.

In contrast, Aussies (and Brits, too) often seem allergic to praise.

Confidence is treated with suspicion.

The simplest way I’ve found to explain the difference is this: if someone pulls up in a Ferrari in America, people noticeably admire, nod, cheer, or call out, “Nice car!”

In Australia, they’re more likely to be called a wanker, or at the very least, everyone pretends not to notice the car, or the driver.

In the UK?

My friend joked: “Similar to Australia, and they would probably get mugged.”

Why is it so hard, in some cultures, to celebrate others’ wins?

That question kept echoing when another moment landed in my lap during the same Queensland trip.

My friends and I were leaving a restaurant, headed for the courtesy bus, when a couple approached me.

“We think we know you…” they began.

Small world; turns out we hosted their wedding at my previous hotel and events venue a few years back.

They spent the entire drive back to the hotel telling me how much the space had meant to them, how they’d stayed with family there multiple times including with a family member that had since passed, and how much they’d loved what I’d created.

I cannot tell you how much I appreciated hearing that.

Maybe even how much I needed it.

Because here’s the truth: we often race so quickly on to the next chapter that we forget the significance of the one before.

I’d moved on from the venue, but their words reminded me that the work had mattered, that it had touched lives.

I’ve kept many of those old cards from my cruise ship days, tucked away in a drawer.

Every now and then, when I’m feeling flat, I pull them out.

It’s a reminder that the energy we put into the world does land with people, even if we don’t always hear about it in the moment.

That’s why compliments are not just nice-to-haves.

They’re lifelines.

They connect us.

They affirm us.

They lift us when we might otherwise be spiralling down.

So here’s my gentle challenge to you: if you think something nice about someone — say it.

Send the text.

Make the call.

Write the review.

Scribble the card.

You never know what those words will mean.

You never know if you’re catching someone on a day when they really, truly need it.

And you never regret a compliment given.

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Sunday, 6th July 2025

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