“I dont know why I did the things I did
I dont know why I said the things I said
Prides like a knife, it can cut deep inside
Words are like weapons, they wound sometimes”
- If I Could Turn Back Time, Cher.
It is one of those pop songs that, like Rihanna’s Umbrella, is probably remembered more for its provocative film clip than its lyrical content (I mean, if Cher could turn back time… she wouldn’t bare her ass to the entire US Navy?) but I found the lyric popped into my head earlier today. Specifically that one line: Words are like weapons they wound sometimes.
I found myself talking to a friend and all of a sudden their thoughts just trailed off into very strange territory. And I was listening to what they were saying and being struck by how offensive it seemed. And I was thinking this is really very offensive but it seemed particularly offensive being expressed in my presence (for reasons I don’t care to disclose). It was as if they hadn’t connected the dots in their mind or even realised who they were talking to; indeed the very implications it had to the person it was being expressed to.
I suggested perhaps it was a discussion that was best taken up with someone else. And they seemed to sense my reservations. They apologised, but even the apology seemed to make matters worse. It was okay because they didn’t think of me ‘like that.’ Suddenly even my own personal identity became oddly malleable. It didn’t seem to matter who I was so much as what their personal ‘concept’ of me was – that’s what they were working with, that’s ‘who’ they were relating to.
And actually, in the moment, I said, “It’s okay.”
But frankly it wasn’t and that wasn’t even what I meant to convey. These sentiments weren’t okay with me. What I meant to say was, “I know you well enough to know that you didn’t mean any offense by the remarks and that you don’t mean me any harm.”
And it was resolved… I guess. Or rather the tension was diffused. But for me it wasn’t about making this person ‘wrong,’ because actually I have a great affection for this individual. But it wasn’t about just ‘making nice’ in the iterim either. I really wanted them to think about the words they use, because words really are like weapons. Sometimes they can wound unintentionally and there is little comfort to be had even in that knowledge.
I am trying to be less reactive though. I am trying to cultivate a greater patience for people. I understand that sometimes the first thoughts out of someone’s mouth are not always their most formed or their most personally representative. I realise, in a curious fashion, that my very existence is deeply problematic for a lot of people – even people who do actually love me. I feel that we’ll get there in the end.
