Sticks and Stones...

I had a rather rude awakening this week. As children, we are encouraged to disregard the horrible things that others might say about you. At the age of 8, it might be acceptable to cry when someone says something hurtful. As you get older though, the better you're able to ignore the snide and spiteful comments, the stronger you are. Or so we're told.


For me, and for many others I'm sure, the mantra becomes "never let them see you cry". In our society, crying is often viewed as a weakness. If your antagonizer can't get a visible reaction out of you, then they lose. You win. For years I have been able to do this; I've almost perfected the "I don't give a shit what you think about me" attitude. I almost had myself fooled too.


So what happens when it's not some random stranger or casual acquaintance who hurts you? What if it's a friend or family member? Someone you care about? It's easy to put on a brave face and let the harmful remarks slide. It's not a strength at all. The real strength comes from confronting that person and saying, "Yes, that comment hurt me. Yes, you made me feel bad about myself."


I don't care who you are or what you portray to the world; if you have friends and family members who you care about, then you value their opinions as well. What they say and what they think matters. Admitting that someone else's opinions and judgments affect your emotions may feel like you're giving them the power of knowledge. The important thing to remember is that in a real relationship, the "power", the ability to hurt with words, is mutual. And in a real relationship, you should be able to let that person know if they've hurt you.


It's a lot harder than it sounds. Letting someone you care about know that they've hurt you in some way is painfully difficult. You have to access your emotions in a public way and make yourself vulnerable. However, if it's someone who truly is your friend, who cares about you, they will not abuse or exploit that vulnerability. They will respect what you have to say.


I learned this week that I am most definitely not immune to hurtful words. I am not always able to compartmentalize my emotions. It was simultaneously agonizing and cathartic to let a friend know that [they] had hurt my feelings. My initial instinct was to let the comment slide. My second was to go to the bathroom so I could cry by myself. Luckily, my friend could see that I was visibly upset and pushed the issue until I admitted that was hurt. My friend respected that. Had this friend not pushed me to acknowledge my emotions, the issue never would have been resolved and the relationship would have been altered, negatively.


Although the experience was painful and extremely uncomfortable to me, it was worth it. I am thankful for this rude, yet ultimately beneficial, awakening.