Words Will Always Hurt Me

"Sticks and stones may break my bones

But words will never hurt me"

It doesn't matter how many times I say the rhyme I learnt in childhood. Repetition doesn't make it true. Words do hurt me. They hurt me a lot. I think they always will.

The man I was in love with described me this week as dysfunctional and sensitive. Two words that hurt very much coming from him. Because it doesn't matter how many times he tells the public world how wonderful he thinks I am. What matters is the words he says when we are alone.

I have a destructive inner self. Where she came from I don't know but she is quick to anger, very territorial, and has a vile tongue. Especially with me. After reading The Chimp Paradox, I call her my chimp. That book changed my life in 2014 when it finally allowed me to recognise my darkness and give her a name. Only once I knew she was there could I try to control her. 

And controlling her now is usually fairly easy; sometimes it is quite difficult; and occasionally, as it has proven today, it is impossible. Because I am dysfunctional and sensitive. My adult mind has never fully grown from that of the strong-willed, sensitive child I used to be. And it is easy for me to recognise the same mind in the children I see. In adults it is harder, but children have not yet learnt to hide their sensitivity. And I have learnt to hide mine too well. 

I shield my sensitivity so well very few people would know it was there. I hide it from the world like the weakness I think it is. I have an armour so strong that the arrows made from words that hurt bounce off me. But so too do the gentle caresses of praise. Nothing gets through. 

When I let the armour drop, and hurtful words get in, they sear through me like arrows of fire. And I behave like I did today. I am a wild chimp-like creature. With the capacity to do such damage that it petrifies me. I am trapped in a mind which is too frightened to let me be myself. I bet Dr Freud would have a field day. 

But I have to find a way to be me. Because dysfunctional and sensitive are also independent and empathetic. The chimp is there. I cannot deny her or hide her. I must love her. 

A final plea from the strong-willed, sensitive child. Always tell him/her how much you love them. Even when they screw up. In fact, especially then ...