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Power of Words

December 17, 2011

Sometimes I wonder if people understand the power of words. Words can heal or hurt, help or harm, enlighten or obscure. I believe that far too many people either don’t realize that or don’t care enough about this power to be careful. Recently, I experienced something that made this all too clear for me.

I’m a bit of an outcast in my neighborhood. I live in a predominately Caucasian area and I’m multi-racial. I look like I don’t belong when I’m out among my community. I never went to public school, made friends with my peers, or even socialized with them. I’m quiet and reserved, I don’t wear tight clothes, date, drink alcohol or smoke and I have an accent that is not typical of someone from here. I spend most of my time reading, playing my guitar or doing something else creatively constructive. In fact, most adults that meet me, assume that I’m either about twelve because of my childish face, or nineteen because of my demeanor. As you can probably assume, this sets me apart from the other teens in my area a great deal.

I go outside relatively frequently–sometimes with my mom, my brother or by myself. On numerous occasions, I have encountered the teenagers that attend a nearby high school. I never say anything or even look at them, as I do with most people, but this hasn’t stopped the teen girls from taunting me and blatantly insulting me when I pass them. They call me names, make fun of my hair, shoes, and clothes. I haven’t been physically harmed by any of them, but somehow, what they say hurts more than a bruise or broken bone ever could.

I’m sensitive and self-conscious about my body, due to things that probably will be discussed in later posts. What they say brings up emotions that I would rather keep under wraps. I deal with the stress surrounding my physical self every day; I don’t need someone pointing out what they perceive as flaws. I’ve been called dirty, ugly, fat, mannish, and plenty of other names that I won’t disclose.

Logically, I know I’m not dirty; I bathe. Most of the time, I don’t think I’m ugly, unattractive sometimes, but ugly, no. I’m not really fat; I’m about 4 feet 10.5 inches tall and 115-120 pounds–I’m curvy, but not fat; I can still see my ribs when I lift my arms and I exercise everyday. I know I don’t look like a man, I’m obviously a girl, but I dress modestly and in a manner that is comfortable for me.

My logic; however, has nothing to do with what my emotions feel. Their words sting more than I express in a blog post, and sometimes, I believe what they say about me.

My point is, we have to be careful what we say because you never know how it may affect someone. Don’t say anything to anyone that you wouldn’t want to hear yourself. You don’t know what this person may be going through in life, what they’re thinking or how they feel. Be careful what you say. You may be doing more harm than good.

Physical wounds heal in weeks. Emotional wounds heal in years.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. SaraPey permalink
    December 23, 2011 6:15 pm

    Hi, I haven’t visiting your blog in centuries (well I haven’t even been taking good care of mine!) but I missed it! And once again I related to your post – we really need to pay attention to what we say, because emotional wounds may never be healed. I know one thing or two about that…

    Well, I wish you all best and keep up the lovely blog, I’ll try to stop by more often 🙂

    • December 24, 2011 1:39 pm

      Hi, I had been wondering what had happened–your posts have been sorely missed. Haha True, I can honestly say I know a bit about that as well.

      Thanks for taking the time to read and comment! It means a lot! 🙂

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