"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!"My dad used to make us recite this in a singsong voice after getting into a fight. I believe his intention was to disarm the antagonist, or whoever was spewing nasty things at the other.
And it was a big, giant load of HORSESHIT.
Words hurt more than sticks or stones. I'd rather be beaten or stoned than have someone I love say something nasty to me. The sister closest in age to me while growing up was a master at saying something nasty that provoked me into hitting her. Guess who got punished after that interchange? It didn't change when she grew up either. She just became better at it--using a tone of voice, or a particular attitude instead of actual words to convey her disdainful superiority regarding something I was talking about. Unfortunately, there are others in my life who have the same talent. It's not always passive aggressive either--sometimes it's blatant. And when they choose to exercise this talent, I want to hide in the corner and lick my wounds. Or hit them.
I am not excluding myself from this problem, however. Over the past year or so, my own language has gotten nastier. Out of self-defense sometimes, but really it's just me letting my inside-my-head voice take a little too much control. There has to be a way to find the middle road. We should all be ok with expressing feelings and communicating in an emotionally healthy way and not repressing ourselves to be 'nice'.
But please don't call me a bitch. Even if you think I'm being one, all it does is knock me down for the rest of the day. If you love me, that will never be your goal. If you love me, your goal will be to see if I'm suffering and then alleviate what you can.
And if I love you, I'll also try to tame the knee-jerk response that makes me want to call you an asshole and walk away.
*hugs*
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