I don't really know why I'm writing this. I don't know precisely what this post should be about. Odd, I know, given the fact that I am typing this and it's turning into a post of its own one word at a time. I guess... no, I don't guess, I know that I need to write. And let the chips fall where they may.
As 'Days of our Lives' dramatic as that sounds... I'm not in a particularly neon pink place at the moment... it's been a tough couple of weeks. Think Survivor meets The Apprentice meets Mean Girls. You see, I'm a words person. It's both a strength and a weakness.
Do I remember every dirty look, childhood 'lie belt' smack or Standard 5 'disco' I wasn't invited to? No. Do I remember every hurtful/judgemental phrase ever said about me or to me? Yes. Every word.
Fun Fact: My grandmother telling 14-year old me that I was 'a well-padded girl' still gets my butt to gym on a Monday morning.
Wanna build me up and make me grin like a fool? Compliment me on, well, me or my work or my house or my 'world famous' toasted sandwiches, whatever, just say something nice. Wanna break me down and make me ugly cry like a Real Housewife of wherever? Accuse me, insult me, attack my character, my work ethic, my relationships with words. Wanna really push me into blubbering-like-a- fool territory? Question my commitment as a wife, mother or friend, and then have me hear those words via the grapevine, over and over again. I mean, in the presence of PVR, nobody loves a repeat.
That's the thing about being a words person. You use words to build others up, to make others smile, to perhaps help to pick them up when they're down or celebrate with them when they're up. It's important to pick out the perfect card or craft a heartfelt handwritten message or comment on someone's social media post. It's important to not just 'share' but to 'write post' that they're a USN Face of Fitness or a Mrs South Africa finalist or an embodiment of the #womensupportingwomen #EndGirlHate movement. And, it's cathartic and healing and necessary to write about the things that both enrich you and drain you, the things that amplify your spirit and the things that crush it.
Do I wish I could just let loose and write, write, write all the gut-wrenching details, like a Sex and the City wannabe on Rodeo Drive with a Kardashian credit card? Um, yeah. But... six paragraphs in... I've determined that that's not the point of this post.
The point of this post is to remind us all to be kind. To think before we speak. To put ourselves in the other person's shoes (yes, even if they're Crocs) before tap dancing on their spirit with ice-pick-spiked soccer boots.
Because, you see, the thing with words... once written, once said... is that they're out there. And, if you're like me, it's the nasty ones that play on a continuous loop in your head, making your brain cells wince and your heart ache long after the phrase was uttered. So, let's give the nasty words and hurtful phrases a rest.
Let's admire a Facebook friend's will power and determination and passion rather than skinner'ing about whether or not her six-pack is 'feminine'. Seriously, she is a mother of twins and has the body of a (sensibly self-tanned) Greek goddess... I say #goals #yougogirl #haterssitdownandeatmorechips
Let's stop criticising the serial-selfie-taker/pics-of-kids-poster/look-what-I-ate-today sharer ... Think she looks #beYOUtiful? Tell her. Think her kid is cute? Tell her. Think her fate-free-gluten-free-dairy-non-chocolate-chocolate brownie looks, um, surprisingly, tasty? Ask her for the recipe.
Let's stop saying and writing things that we can't take back and start saying and writing things that we would never want to take back. There you go, I made my point... finally.
As 'Days of our Lives' dramatic as that sounds... I'm not in a particularly neon pink place at the moment... it's been a tough couple of weeks. Think Survivor meets The Apprentice meets Mean Girls. You see, I'm a words person. It's both a strength and a weakness.
Do I remember every dirty look, childhood 'lie belt' smack or Standard 5 'disco' I wasn't invited to? No. Do I remember every hurtful/judgemental phrase ever said about me or to me? Yes. Every word.
Fun Fact: My grandmother telling 14-year old me that I was 'a well-padded girl' still gets my butt to gym on a Monday morning.
Wanna build me up and make me grin like a fool? Compliment me on, well, me or my work or my house or my 'world famous' toasted sandwiches, whatever, just say something nice. Wanna break me down and make me ugly cry like a Real Housewife of wherever? Accuse me, insult me, attack my character, my work ethic, my relationships with words. Wanna really push me into blubbering-like-a- fool territory? Question my commitment as a wife, mother or friend, and then have me hear those words via the grapevine, over and over again. I mean, in the presence of PVR, nobody loves a repeat.
That's the thing about being a words person. You use words to build others up, to make others smile, to perhaps help to pick them up when they're down or celebrate with them when they're up. It's important to pick out the perfect card or craft a heartfelt handwritten message or comment on someone's social media post. It's important to not just 'share' but to 'write post' that they're a USN Face of Fitness or a Mrs South Africa finalist or an embodiment of the #womensupportingwomen #EndGirlHate movement. And, it's cathartic and healing and necessary to write about the things that both enrich you and drain you, the things that amplify your spirit and the things that crush it.
Do I wish I could just let loose and write, write, write all the gut-wrenching details, like a Sex and the City wannabe on Rodeo Drive with a Kardashian credit card? Um, yeah. But... six paragraphs in... I've determined that that's not the point of this post.
The point of this post is to remind us all to be kind. To think before we speak. To put ourselves in the other person's shoes (yes, even if they're Crocs) before tap dancing on their spirit with ice-pick-spiked soccer boots.
Because, you see, the thing with words... once written, once said... is that they're out there. And, if you're like me, it's the nasty ones that play on a continuous loop in your head, making your brain cells wince and your heart ache long after the phrase was uttered. So, let's give the nasty words and hurtful phrases a rest.
Let's admire a Facebook friend's will power and determination and passion rather than skinner'ing about whether or not her six-pack is 'feminine'. Seriously, she is a mother of twins and has the body of a (sensibly self-tanned) Greek goddess... I say #goals #yougogirl #haterssitdownandeatmorechips
Let's stop criticising the serial-selfie-taker/pics-of-kids-poster/look-what-I-ate-today sharer ... Think she looks #beYOUtiful? Tell her. Think her kid is cute? Tell her. Think her fate-free-gluten-free-dairy-non-chocolate-chocolate brownie looks, um, surprisingly, tasty? Ask her for the recipe.
Let's stop saying and writing things that we can't take back and start saying and writing things that we would never want to take back. There you go, I made my point... finally.
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