Talk to Me Nice
Growing up with Boomers and a Traditionalist created a small challenge for me when I was young. I was raised by people who had strong opinions and said whatever came to mind no matter how it made you feel. Because I strived to be as perfect as I could be so I wouldn’t face any troubles in life, I regurgitated the attitude and the sayings I heard my elders spoke. I firmly held my beliefs and judged others for the situations they were in until…college.
When I started college, I weighed 140 pounds, but by the beginning of my sophomore year, I dropped to 120 and was unable to get it back up. People made comments about how small I got. Some people applauded and other people made negative comments like how much bigger my head looked on my body. Either way, I felt awful because I knew it was a result from the fact that I wasn’t eating because I was depressed. Yet, I laughed it off or smiled and continued to suffer in silence. Later, after being diagnosed with herpes, I discovered that the perm I was putting in my hair damaged the hair on the back of my head immensely. As a result, I decided to abstain from putting a perm in my head to allow the hair in the back of my head grow out. However, before that point, I never had to care for my natural hair. I refused to acknowledge I was transitioning to natural hair so I cared for my hair like I did when it was permed. Not to mention, I was never the type of girl who liked to do hair. I also underestimated how long it would take for my hair to grow out. As a result, my hair looked awful.
I remember one time I went to work and a coworker made a comment behind my back that I clearly heard. “She needs to do something with her hair.” I acted as if I didn’t hear her and continued working but it affected me. I didn’t know what to do with my hair. I was trying to grow it out so I could put a perm back in it, a hairstyle that I felt was the only way society would accept me as pretty. I was struggling with depression. I was trying not to be negligent of eating. I was struggling with the idea of switching to a major that made me happy but my parents’ didn’t necessarily approve of. I was trying to graduate. I was recently told that I had an incurable STD. All of this was going on and the only comment my coworker could utter were words that continued to chip away at my soul. All the world could do was to say things that continually broke me.
It was during my years of depression that I understood what Thumper meant by: “If you can’t say nothing nice, don’t say nothing at all.” It was during this time I learned the importance of being careful of what you say to people because you NEVER know what they are going through. Ephesians 4:32 (NLT) says: Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.” At that time, although I didn’t know it, I just wanted people to see me. I craved to know that I was loved and everything was going to be ok.
People are fighting battles you may never understand and your words could be the very thing that either helps them or pushes them over the edge.
