Sticks and Stones

Most folk like to enjoy the idea that abuse is not abuse (and yes, I am including 'bullying' as that is an abusive behavior) until someone gets physically hurt. Its a convenient thought, really.After all, it is easier to prove that someone's been hurt when there's a cut, a bruise, a gash, a broken bone, etc. Mood swings or social clues of abuse can be overlooked or explained away as hormones, quirks or strangeness. This, is an absolutely deadly idea.

Every year, we lose innocents to suicide. We have many more who suffer in silence.

This is exactly the reason why I write what I write and say what I say. If I can just shine a little bit of light into that infinite of darkness so that someone may better understand the impact of our actions to another human being, my job is accomplished.

The last few days have been a whirlwind of emotions. I am saddened by the turn of events that have taken place with my mother. Let me explain: she is not an ogre. She is simply antiquated in train of thought and misguided in how to approach her children in encouragement. I do not love her any less for our differences in opinion. She will forever be the person I cry out to when I'm sick and the one I yearn to hold me when my heart is broken, even if she's the one who nicked it in the first place.

On the other hand, I am beyond surprised--overwhelmed even -- by the words of support that have been given to me through friends, in person and in writing. I have messages coming to me from a friend of a friend of a friend.

People have shared with me their own stories of pain, success and ongoing battles since the picture was posted and consequently removed. We all have one thing in common; words. We've all been told painful words that have stuck with us for years.

Words have immense power, hence the saying 'the pen is mightier than the sword.' In some cultures, folk have multiple names in order to hide from death and keep their autonomy. It is believed that if someone speaks their name, they will loose their sense of free-will. Pagans have their spells. Christians, Jews and Muslims their prayers. Buddhists their chants. Politicians have their propositions and nations their laws. And in some places, books are banned because the words within them bring unwelcomed change.

Words, people, not guns.

The things we say without thought of consequence are usually the most disastrous. They have a lasting effect that continue to influence us long after the wound on the flesh has healed.

A friend of mine confessed how a single comment about his appearance at a young age festered long into adult hood to the point he took it to the extreme. I know that most of my readers are predominantly female, so I want you to think about this. This is a man, fully grown, admitting that to this day he still has issues with his appearance. Women have shared with me how they struggle with self-acceptance day to day. The one thing we all have in common? The words told to us by friends, enemies, strangers even loved ones. The most potent, of course, are those closest to us.

I've mentioned before, I've always been made to feel like a fat child. As a toddler I had a big little belly and as a teen, large breasts. I had a few nicknames growing up. One of them was Miss Piggy because I was chunky and sassy. The other was Shamu because I loved to swim. While I loved whales, I always wondered why I wasn't called 'Ariel'.  It wasn't long before I put two and two together. Mermaids weren't fat. Whales were. 

I spent the rest of my youth wearing baggy t-shirts over my bathing suits while in the public pool and as I got older, I've developed a hatred of situations where I may be forced of wearing one.

Words have power, my friends. A lot more power than people give them credit for. Negative words have a horrible tendency to outweigh the good ones too. Sometimes it is those painful words that drown out the sea of positive, joyful ones.

I try my best to stay positive but I'll be the first to admit that this is easier said than done. I have to actively force myself to look at the positive of things sometimes. That scar on my abdomen that is proudly displayed on that Power of She photo? It was a burst appendectomy where I died on the OR...but I was brought back. My sister, who until then thought of me more of a nuisance, began to be my friend. I spent two weeks laying in bed, surrounded by my siblings and being forced to laugh. I looked ridiculous, holding on to my side as I chuckled and acted like a woman in labor. (I paid my sister back when *she* wound up in the OR table for the same reason a week after I got better.)

Sometimes I just want to wallow in self pity. It is easier for me to sleep all day and live in a land of fantasy than it is to get dressed and out of the house. But I'm tired of doing just that, the wallowing. Some days I actually lay in bed for a good five to ten minutes arguing with myself as to why I need to get out of bed.

For some people, whose battle is a losing one, this may include therapy (mine is writing) and medication.

As a child, I realized it was easier for me to stand up for others than it was to stand up for myself. This is also another type of therapy for me. I enjoy seeing people smile and knowing their life is getting better. I like to compliment a stranger on their cool outfit, or comment about that amazing book they're reading or whatever. Not once have I been looked like I was crazy. Usually people blush, smile and say thank you.

I do this not because I expect them to say anything in return, but because hearing a kind word from a total stranger may make a difference.

How do I know this? Someone came up to me one day and told me I had a pretty smile and that I was beautiful. I had been having the crappiest of days too.

I faltered. I said thank you. And as she walked away, I started to cry.

Because of this, I am very, very fond of positive, guerrilla warfare in hopes that it makes someone's day. I leave inspirational quotes in bathrooms or places where they can be easily --and sometimes, not so easily-- found. Every month or so, I like to hand write dozens of inspirational quotes in colorful cards and leave them for people to find. Its called Operation Beautiful (www.operationbeautiful.com). And while I am yet to find a note from someone else, I know this may brighten up someone elses day.

There is enough ugliness in this world. There are enough negative words shed without a single thought.

Words have power, people. We  have control over them. Choose your words wisely.