The Power of Our Words

A recent conversation at our house the other night: 

Emma:  “Mom, Tyson called me a lame-o.”

Me:  “Well, are you a lame-o?”

Emma:  “No!”

Me:  “Well, then you don’t need to worry about it.” 

No, Emma’s not a “lame-o,” but telling her to not worry about it wasn’t going to cut it.  The words were spoken and her little feelings were hurt.  That conversation continued several more times involving different words and even a reversal of roles at times.  Finally, Dad and I sat the kids down because they just wouldn’t stop hurting each other with their words. 

We reminded them that they were family and that as such, they were there to support each other…to bring each other up…NOT to try to bring each other down, either on accident or on purpose.  We had them tell each other at least one thing they liked about the other person. 

Tyson said something about Emma being smart sometimes (his version of a compliment).  Emma said something about Tyson being funny. 

As silly as being called a “lame-o” seems, it wasn’t the first time, or the last, I’m sure. It came from someone she loves (at least part of the time) and it hurt her.  I could tell her until I’m blue in the face that she knows she’s not a ______ (fill in the blank), but she’s a girl.  She’s my daughter, which means she’s emotional and sensitive, and it affects her. 

As a female, as a mother, I want my daughter to have the self-assurance to not have little things like that bother her, but then I tried to relate it to my life as an adult. True, I’m in my (cough, cough) mid-30’s, independent, fairly confident, and self-assured for the most part.  Even then, words affect me.  They can bring me up and conversely, they can tear me down and rip me to shreds.  It’s easy to say to not give people that power of you, but good or bad, thoughts and words from people who you care about can affect you. 

In that thought, I’m going to try to make my words work for the best.  My words to my kids, my words to my friends, and my words to others. Maybe take a minute before I yell at them (Reading this it sounds like I’m just yelling all day at them!) and think whether there’s a better way to deal.   After all, I really hate yelling at them, they seem to turn me out really quickly when I do.  “What?”  “Huh?”

I’ll let you know…