Have you ever had one of those days when you were feeling good about yourself and your life, and then someone said something to you and—BAM!—you felt like you’d been cut off at the knees? I had that happen last week. I was at a Christmas event, talking to a woman I’d just met, when someone came up to me and said, in the context of joking, “You don’t have any friends.” I pretended to laugh it off, but I was thinking, “Well, you don’t have any manners. And who are you to say I don’t have friends? I have friends! Don’t I? Wait. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t have friends. Maybe you can see something I can’t—some kind of subtext hanging in the air around me that tells the truth about my friendships.” And the maelstrom of doubt and insecurity began.
Later that night, I asked myself why that statement bothered me. Was it true? No. Did I value the opinion of the person who said it? No. So why did it still sting so much? Why at my age should such trivial words matter? I realized that it was because the words themselves—“you don’t have any friends”—had instantly transported me back to my elementary and junior high years.
Those were the years when my differences became clear to me. I noticed that I was the only kid who had to take breaks during recess to puff on an inhaler. I was the only kid who had to pay daily visits to the school nurse to take asthma medicine that made me shake so badly that the kids around me noticed and turned it into what they thought was a hilarious joke. I was the only kid who brought books to the lunch room and read in the corner by myself. I was the only kid who memorized the Dewey Decimal System. And I didn’t understand why, when I had to read the report I’d written on it, the kids in my class laughed instead of listened.
During the summer that I was eleven, my sisters and brother went to summer camp as usual. I couldn’t go because of my asthma—every summer I was grateful for that small mercy. Instead, my parents suggested that I go to a week-long summer class. They told me that I could pick any class to take. I pored over the class catalog and finally chose a class on learning how to play hand bells. As soon as I put the little white gloves on and picked up the middle C bell, I fell in love with playing hand bells. Outwardly, I was playing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” with two other eleven-year-olds. In my head, I was onstage with a huge orchestra, playing “Carol of the Bells.” When school started, we wrote the usual papers about what we’d done over the summer and then read our papers to the class. The kids started laughing when I read about how much fun I’d had learning to play hand bells.
I fled to the bathroom and cried. When I came out, my brother was at the drinking fountain. I told him what had happened. He said, “Dude. Hand bells aren’t cool. Don’t talk about hand bells.” As he walked away, he turned and called back, “Or latch hook. Latch hook isn’t cool, either.” I secretly disagreed, but I listened to him. My eight-year-old brother did me a huge favor that day—he gave me the key that unlocked a volume of understanding for me: if I didn’t want to be made fun of, I either needed to do cool things or stop talking about what wasn’t cool. I quickly figured out that there wasn’t anything cool about my hobbies and interests, but I had no intention of changing them just to fit in. So I stopped talking about them. I figured out times to take my asthma medication so that the side effects would be less noticeable. And I continued to keep to myself. Most of the teasing stopped, but there were two boys who seemed to make it their mission in life to hurt me. They called me names, put a padlock on my locker so I couldn’t get into it, stole my notebooks, and tripped me every time I walked by. Their favorite insult was, “Hey, here comes the loser with no friends!”
That’s why the statement about not having friends stung me so deeply last week. It took me to a sad and lonely place in my past. Yet as I thought about that time in my life, I realized that I have great compassion and respect for the awkward, sickly, odd little girl that I was. Because that little girl endured. She adapted to her environment but refused to change who she was. I also realized that I still carry her with me—she’s the part of me who reminds me to be kind to myself. To love what I love and make no apologies for it. To be who God created me to me. To know myself at a fundamental, soul-deep level and filter other people’s words through that truth and no one else’s. She’s also the part of me that knows that I will never be cool and doesn’t care a bit. The battle to like myself and be at peace with who I am is one that the little girl in me started fighting in elementary school—it’s a battle she and I fought hard to win. I’m not going to let one person’s thoughtless words push me back into it.
I think most of us have a little girl or boy inside of us who is still easily hurt. Offhand comments about our looks, our likes, our career choices, even the people we love can take us right back to those days when we were at the mercy of other people’s opinions. The beautiful thing is that, as adults, we have the benefit of perspective to help us sort through those comments and thoughtless words. We can ask ourselves why the words hurt us. Then we can deal with that hurt, let it go, and move on. We can choose to like ourselves and value our differences, no matter what others think.
One final note: please be careful with the words you say to others. You have no idea what’s happening in someone’s life at the moment you speak to them. Your words could be their last straw or their saving grace. Your words could also be your own saving grace when you use them to affirm who you are. That, to me, is cool. Not as cool, as, say, rocking the hand bells, but cool nonetheless.
Share this Post
Comments 14
I’m so glad that you valued your activities enough to keep at them even when other kids said they weren’t cool. Who wants to be a crowd-follower anyway?! There were times when I did want to be part of the crowd. I was shunned in the 7th grade, and never really knew why, but eventually, as I grew older and saw more of how people were, it didn’t matter so much. Now there is a pity for those who are mean or spiteful or unkind in some other way — they are shallow, hurting people, and don’t have much of substance to offer. Talking with the Lord about them is of eternal value because that is God’s heart reaching out through our hearts to those who are in the darkness, and we pray that they will come into the Light. Thank you, Renee, for touching so many chords.
Heather–I didn’t always want to be a part of the crowd; I mostly wanted to understand why I wasn’t. Like you said, I “never really knew why.” I really, really needed to hear what you said tonight about people who are unkind and spiteful because they’re hurting. That’s a super helpful perspective–thank you. And I will continue to pray for those who are hurting. Thank you so very much for your comment.
1. I remember that culture you went to school. It was supportive and the were some real quality individuals, but there was a culture of making fun of others differences, of teasing, and the “bullies” being able to get away with their stunts at others expense. You brought me back to the senerio in math class where someone circulated a petition around that said “Sarah is a Dork” where everyone in the class signed it, including the teacher. I was devastated and that has left a lifetime impact on me and how I have interacted with the world and Math.
2. My daughter is 11 and has taken up learning the hand bells. She has the opportunity to join the hand bell choir at her JR High and we are fortunate that our church has a hand bell children’s choir she participates in. She is around others that think it is cool. So please tell Adam there are some places in the world that it is cool. My church also does an adult bell choir that I’ve been asked many times to join…maybe I’ll try it out and see what it is about in your honor.
3. I loved the articulated feel in your words “Have you ever been feeling good about yourself and BAM someone says something to you and you feel awful and less than…
4. The other night I was in Chicago on the “L”. I was sitting across from a man who was professionally dressed and you could tell his mind was racing and he was trying not to cry. I wanted to just reach over and give him a hug and tell him no matter what it was it was going to be “ok”. But it is Chicago on the L system where you need not to be a Dork and have Street smarts and stranger danger awareness. However right before my stop I made eye contact with this man and I smiled with empathy and he lost it breaking down in a full bawl. I told him that I noticed him and how I wanted to just tell him that even though I don’t know what it is or what is going on its going to be ok. He just started saying over and over “What is it that they want, what do they want me to do?” My stop came and I got off. I left that man crying on the L not knowing his story. He has been on my mind since walking away and I regret not staying to know more and that he got to his destination safely…
5. You are so right words can make, break, lift up, harm, save a life and I’m convinced they can even have the power to kill. I was recently reading about a local 11 year old girl recently committed suicide in the County we live in because she was being bullied. It is so tragic.
Oh, Sarah, you moved me to tears. I think bullying in the context of joking is such a cop out for people–“oh, I was just kidding.” It doesn’t matter when you’re the one being bullied–joking or not, it hurts. I’m so very sorry for that petition situation. I understand why it hurt you so badly and still stays with you. I’m so happy to hear about your daughter playing hand bells! I don’t care if it’s cool or not–we should do what we love and let the rest of the world be sorry they’re missing out. If you do join your church’s hand bell choir, let me know–it would make my heart so happy. Your story about the man on the L moved me so deeply. Thank you for being a person who notices the ones that most people don’t see. Your words to him were beautiful and may have been the saving grace that got him through one more night. I will add him to my prayer list and ask God to send Him the help He needs. And finally, I absolutely believe that, as you said, words have the power to kill. I hear about these kids committing suicide at younger and younger ages because they’re bullied, and it breaks my heart. Thank you for your words, my friend. Your soul is as beautiful as I remember your smile being. Keep shining your light–the world needs it so badly. ❤
Hi Renee,
Really related to your words, bullies do we ever get away from them, seems like they just follow us into adult hood and their words seem to hurt more but we able to handle bullying more easily. Just woundering did you have a polite come back for that person who said you have no friends?
Jean and I are two people that don’t have a lot of friends and that’s by choice, it isn’t a big deal, it’s more about quality over quantity, I think you will understand. My father in law who thought he had a lot of friends tried to make a big deal about it to my face and I ask him why was it any of his business he said success was measured by how many friends you have, I replied “oh really “ and let it go. Jean wasn’t blessed with a good step dad or me a good father in law, enough it is the holidays!
I understand your remember all the details of grade school and junior high and all the bulling, for me even though I was able to stop that stuff it still hurts to this day because it cut so deep at the time. I have ask myself for years if these thoughts ever will ever go away they do little, but it seems like the deep deep insults stick around, why I have no idea, but I do know the hurt goes deep!
You are so right there is a little child in all of us that is easily hurt, but you have got to learn to be stronger and develop coping skills, hopefully! Also as an adult we should all be so much more thoughtful of the words we say before we open our mouths, if we remember our hurt maybe it slow us down when we are about to hurt someone else. Like the Bible says the tongue is sharper than a double edge sword. So we must be careful what we say, it is so easy to go off on a person and hurt a friendship beyond repair.
Grover, I think you and I are kindred spirits! You asked if I had a polite comeback for that person. Not then. I never think of clever things until about three hours too late. I’m always disappointed when someone–adults–reveals themself to be a bully. Then it makes sense to me why their kids are. There really are bullies everywhere. Monty and I are the same as you and Jean–our friends are mostly our family members, some from church, and some on Facebook. We are each others’ best friends–and that’s been the basis for our marriage. I, too, have wondered when the hurt of those bullies’ words stops; I’ve concluded like you that it probably won’t. But that’s why God equipped us as adults to handle it better–to have coping skills, as you said, that we didn’t have as children. I always ask God to show me the blessing in any situation, and in this, it is my sensitivity to hurting other people’s feelings. I like what you said, “If we remember our hurt, maybe it will slow us down when we are about to hurt someone else.” Oh, I hope so. I really do. Thank you for your insights and for always being such a faithful reader. Love to you this morning.
Oh Renee this touched my very soul …thank you for once again sharing even the painful things that God has used to make us His masterpieces!!! Love you sweetie. Debbie
Debbie–thank you for your words! I think maybe the painful things end up being the most beautiful part of the masterpiece–maybe some extra texture or deeper colors. I’m so grateful that God has a plan to make us His masterpieces, and that nothing in our lives is wasted. Thank you for reading my words–love to you. ❤
Loved this! I can definitely relate as well. I want to go back in time and beat up those two boys. 🙂 Which proves your point about how powerful words can be since just reading about how much they hurt you makes me sad and hurt for that little girl! Love you!
Oh, my sweet Monty. Just be glad you weren’t one of those two boys. 😎 Thank you for being the kindest person I know. Just watching you be kind inspires me again and again. Thank you for these kind words. I love you, too.
Thank you Renee. Very well said. I appreciate your willingness to share yourself with us. God bless you richly!!
You’re welcome, and thank YOU, Jeannette, for reading the words I share. It means so much to me. ❤
Good morning Sparrow. interesting title , The Ghost of Christmas Past. Kind of reminded me of “The Christmas Carol.”, with Alister Sim, among others in the cast. But, you helped me “switch gears”, to bullies, criticism, as a youngster. Those are difficult things to deal with, I encountered a little of it, in Sunday School, kids would kick attheback of my chair, during service. Camp, age 9, but my brother David would “come to my rescue”, nothing much past then. Criticism, another topic, some during Junior High, but nothing that would “knock me to the canvas”. My Mother would always say , “Harold, you need to love yourself”,:not going overboard however. An old expression, “self praise stinks”, just being confident, not cocky, in what you do or say, Wirds, can “cut like a knife”, one can do much more harm. With wirds, not physical actions. Had to learn this in raisingour 5 children, be careful what yiu say around the “ little ones”. Finally, one of my great goals, which I am trying to reach daily, “Be at Peace with Yourself”, getter doubts out of your thoughts. Think positive, no matter what the situation, because your attitudes, thoughts do reflect and “rub off” on all you meet”. I try to remember, God Is In Control, no matter how much I may try to “skirt his control”. So again, Sparrow, Yiu have hit another “Homerun Blog”.”Keep on Blogging”. TexGen,
Author
TexGen–bullies are hard to deal with at any age. I’m just stunned when adults do it! I think of kids who are on social media and are bullied through that. I had it easy compared to what kids today have to deal with. Yes, as you said, words can cut like a knife. And they do. I always hated the expression “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” I’ve had three broken bones, and none of them hurt like cruel words do. I like your daily goal of being at peace with yourself. I think you radiate that peace in your actions of service to others, and I believe it’s why they’re so drawn to you. I know I, for one, very much appreciate your optimism and positive outlook. Thank you for your insights, my friend.