What Are Words?

Words. What are words? They can be encouragement or love. They can be anger or

happiness. Fear or exhilaration. They can be promises or lies. Words can be almost anything—and mean so many things. We can use them to hurt, to report, to express and to break.

Never has anyone ever thought simply when it comes to the use of words. We just spew them, without thought, with little thought to the outcome or the repercussions they may impose. As humans, we associate words as expression. We are taught from a young age the use of them, the sounds they make. We learn to spell them, teach them and explore them further.

In today’s world though, words are dangerous. Gone are the days where we could turn to our friends and have a conversation with no more meaning then questioning the weather when those words are misconstrued. Sensitivity becomes our newest companion. We are afraid to speak our truths, beliefs, and our hearts. Why? Simply because of what might come of what you say and the context that is taken in those simple words that are just about the weather.

There is so much anger behind words today. A person can’t be for something without being told they need to be against it because those around them tell them that they have no right to the words of their expression. Where are we going with this way of thinking? When did just a simple “hello” turn into an all out fight? When did we become these people who so easily dismiss one another?

Words.

Just words. But they hold so much. More than we as humanity realize. We are so quick to judge, to lash out, to turn on one another, for the mere disregard to one another. When did this become okay? When did it become a normal way of communication in our society? When did it becomes so hard for my daughter to express her own opinions without having backlash? When did it become difficult for her to express her feelings or truths, when she is afraid to speak out due to what might be said or done. Most importantly, when do her words get heard? When do we look at each other and say “enough is enough,” and shake hands?

When did it become okay to start a verbal altercation at public gathering, simply because you don’t like the way someone does something? When did it become necessary for a person to take belittle another because their views are different from yours? When did we become so blinded by our own stupidity that we stopped actually listening to one another?

I don’t want my daughter to grow up with this being her normal. Already we are introducing them to a world of “new normals,” of not playing friends, sitting in a classroom, joining a sport. We are stripping them of their childhoods—for good reasons? To an extent—yes, that’s what every parent does. We protect and we defend. But we aren’t defending them. We are pointing blame but not taking action to become better. We hide behind walls. We fight against one another. We turn on family, friends, neighbors. If we as adults are struggling during this time with our own mental health and capacity, just imagine what our kids, our future, their future feels like, looks like.

Broken.

Hopeless.

Fearful.

Hatred.

Anger.

Resentment.

Depression.

Anxiety.

Loneliness.

Empty.

Lost.

The list can go on and on. Our emotions are complex. And as an adult, we fear confronting them. And we expect our kids to do the same. If we pretend, it doesn’t exist. That’s what we are teaching them. They can’t grow up feeling this despair. I know that there is always denial. It’s easier to just pretend. And let’s be honest, to take words and lash out because thats how we know of expressing them today.

But if we could just take words and put them to good use, help those that need to be understood. Advocate for those that feel their words aren’t worth even one ounce of our attention. Why is that so hard?

I see it. Everyday. I see the light that once shown so bright in my daughter’s eye fading. I see it in the way she holds herself. Confidence shattered. Confusion a daily friend that tags along. Fear that wasn’t there before. And anger. Anger at the current situations she faces. Anger at not being heard and understood. Anger at herself for feeling emotions that she fears she shouldn’t. Anger at not being able to express her frustrations. Fear of not ever feeling like she once did. Fear of not being protected or safe. Fear of others, fear of illness, fear of death.

Like most, she is very observant and just when I think she isn’t listening closely, she is. She hears it all. Things that we once shielded her from, she has define clarity to. What she doesn’t hear from us, her parents, she learns from friends, other family members, social media. We try to protect the best we can, but we can’t hide that our lives are no longer normal. We can’t protect them from what they are feeling anymore than we can protect ourselves and it all comes down to one thing—words.

They hear them. They fear them. They learn them. They use them, but they can’t express them. Feeling that you have no outlet, no need of expression, it can lead to things you never imagined. Feeling all alone and misunderstood or even fear, rationality is instantly replaced. Stupid becomes a word that is flung at you. Why, is another.

But we don’t know why and we know it’s a lie. It’s a lie we tell ourselves, it’s a lie we tell those we love. It’s lies. We know—we just fear saying it. For a number reasons, but shame mostly. And before you know it, you know it becomes too late. Too late to stop, too late to stop, too late to register feelings.

Am I scaring you?

I should be.

Kids are vulnerable, impressionist, and lead and learn by example. We teach them young enough not to express their words, those dark thoughts, we become ones that say, “it’s too late.”

We need to protect them. We need to hear them. We need to guide them. We need to be their advocate, their voice. We need to be for them what we fear we can’t be for ourselves. Before it’s too late. Before words, big, small, harsh, sad, caddy, can’t be taken back. Don’t let it be too late. We can’t seem to help ourselves, but maybe we can help our kids. Before it’s too late.

I didn’t have an advocate when I was a kid. I couldn’t be my own. Afraid to be because if I told my words, if I spoke them out loud, then I became someone that wouldn’t be recognized. It was easier to not speak, not express, not tell those words, because fear out weighed it all. Fear of being a disappointment, fear of being rejected, fear of not being loved. Fear that I would never be looked at the same way again. I bottled those words, I kept them buried deeply.

And before I knew it, it was too late.

I never want it to be too late for my daughter. Never too late for anyone. And it doesn’t have to be.

Words.

We need to relearn how to use them. If not for us, then for the ones that look up to us.