“Words can hurt.”
“Words can hurt,” was always a phrase I was told growing up. I was reminded and told repeatedly by parents, mentors or teachers that words could bear more weight than any type of blow you could lay on someone. But, also, like any other kid, I never took it seriously to understand the depth of the saying.
It was not until October 17, 2021, that I truly understood what that saying meant. I was getting ready for church that Sunday morning when I got a phone call from my mom. I could tell in her voice that something was wrong, never expecting her to tell me that my thirteen-year-old cousin passed away. It was not until later that day that I was told that he had taken his life due to the bullying he was experiencing both online and at school.
It is hard to put into words the emotions I felt when I found out the cause of passing. I was angry, of course. Angry at the fact that someone could be so cruel to the point where making an irreversible decision that would not only end his life, but also forever change our entire families’ lives, was the only choice available. With my anger, I felt as if I related to him. I knew what it was like to be bullied to the point where you feel as if the entire world was rooting against you, as if no one would care if you just disappeared.
You see, I was never one for cliques or fitting into the societal standards. I had friends but not the childhood best friend that every person in my grade had. I was never the girl who wore the newest clothes and did not throw the extravagant birthday party every girl had for her thirteenth birthday. The thing that separated me from others was that I was quiet. Eventually, people found out that they could say whatever, do whatever, and I would not speak up about it. I was called names, mocked and bullied to the point where I turned to a coping mechanism that led to scars on my body that I will forever have to carry.
It was not until somebody approached me in a bathroom at school, checking in on me after noticing my personality change, that I finally reached out for help. It only took one simple, “Are you okay?” for me to come forward with what I was dealing with and to get help.
So, yes, in a way, I knew how it felt as if your only option out was to make an irreversible decision that would forever lead to consequences. His decision, however, could not be reversed or healed with time.
After some time passed after his passing, I began to wonder, “What if someone had reached out or checked in on him as someone did for me? What if he asked for help? What if someone could have just been kind, instead of choosing hate?”
It was asking myself these questions that I truly realized that words can hurt, but they can also heal. It does not take much. A simple smile, a casual, “How are you?” can mean the world to someone who is hurting.
Kindness does not cost anything, but it can mean everything to someone. However, spitefulness, hate and a single comment can cost everything.
Words can hurt. But, they can also heal.
That is why, in a world where you can be anything, always be kind.
