Sticks and Stones Will Break My Bones and Words Will Always Hurt Me
It has become too easy to forget there are human beings behind the nasty emails we send so casually.
A few years ago I was on the receiving end of a razor sharp missive that cut through my Teflon and inflicted a permanent knick.
Within seconds I was reduced to a sobbing fool questioning everything in my life.
"Is this how everyone feels?" I wondered.
"Is this the writing of an astute man or a deranged one?" Soon I had a headache I can only describe as the worst hangover ever.
My eyes felt weighted, my temple throbbed, and whatever zest I felt was dragged into my gut where it sat like a jagged bolder for days.
(sad, I know).
I was truly humbled.
Not just by the hurtful words, but by the power I realized I'd given to what others think, say and write about me.
I've always believed that what people think of me is none of my business.
But that belief was contingent on people keeping their mouths shuts.
This man (who has never met me) did more than simply voice his opinion.
He claimed to speak on behalf of anonymous "others.
" The experience made me question why I care so deeply, why I volunteer, and what I'm expecting in return.
My husband is doing the same after spending years coaching children whose parents (not all but many) seem to have forgotten that he is a volunteer deserving of respect and courtesies as simple as a call when your child can't make the game or has moved across the country (yes this did happen).
Volunteers are run out of sports organizations every day by bullies who concoct absurd rumours about hidden agendas, ego trips, and the like.
Just recently, a local family pulled their children from hockey after a vicious rumour circulated about the mother pilfering the till during her 10+ years managing the teams her husband coached.
No one stepped in to investigate or question the accusation.
They simply allowed the hurtful words to spread until rumour was confused with reality.
No one stepped up to defend this lady, just as no one copied on the email I received stepped in to tell this man he was just plain mean.
Spiteful words may hurt your feelings but it's silence that breaks your heart.
A few years ago I was on the receiving end of a razor sharp missive that cut through my Teflon and inflicted a permanent knick.
Within seconds I was reduced to a sobbing fool questioning everything in my life.
"Is this how everyone feels?" I wondered.
"Is this the writing of an astute man or a deranged one?" Soon I had a headache I can only describe as the worst hangover ever.
My eyes felt weighted, my temple throbbed, and whatever zest I felt was dragged into my gut where it sat like a jagged bolder for days.
(sad, I know).
I was truly humbled.
Not just by the hurtful words, but by the power I realized I'd given to what others think, say and write about me.
I've always believed that what people think of me is none of my business.
But that belief was contingent on people keeping their mouths shuts.
This man (who has never met me) did more than simply voice his opinion.
He claimed to speak on behalf of anonymous "others.
" The experience made me question why I care so deeply, why I volunteer, and what I'm expecting in return.
My husband is doing the same after spending years coaching children whose parents (not all but many) seem to have forgotten that he is a volunteer deserving of respect and courtesies as simple as a call when your child can't make the game or has moved across the country (yes this did happen).
Volunteers are run out of sports organizations every day by bullies who concoct absurd rumours about hidden agendas, ego trips, and the like.
Just recently, a local family pulled their children from hockey after a vicious rumour circulated about the mother pilfering the till during her 10+ years managing the teams her husband coached.
No one stepped in to investigate or question the accusation.
They simply allowed the hurtful words to spread until rumour was confused with reality.
No one stepped up to defend this lady, just as no one copied on the email I received stepped in to tell this man he was just plain mean.
Spiteful words may hurt your feelings but it's silence that breaks your heart.