Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me…
How I wish this was true! How I wish that I could read and hear snide comments and rude remarks and pretend they are nothing but empty, meaningless words! If only they would simply roll into a bottomless pit of other meaningless things, like America’s Next Top Model and whether or not my toenails are painted pink or red.
But they don’t. They don’t roll off my back. And here I am, wondering if those harsh words hurt because they are slanderous, or because they are true. Perhaps I am all they say I am, perhaps it is painfully and awkwardly true. Am I merely fooling myself to pretend it is not so?
Either way, I remember most acutely that I am no better. That I, too have said words that hurt and wound and pierce deeply into the soul. True or not, there is no need for me to ever say them. The pain a careless word can cause is deeper than nearly anything, and is rarely ever worth the risk. Any change that may come about because of my harsh words will only come after pain and hurt, that which I would never want to wish on anyone.
I’ve been realizing how little I speak with grace. Just as I am not naturally graceful, my words are not naturally graceful. They are sharp and biting and rarely gentle. They are quick to criticize and so slow to encourage. Yet they come far too rapidly.
My mother always said “if you can’t say anything good, don’t say anything at all”. Why, oh why did I never listen to her?
