Words are dangerous. Hiding in plain sight, they are so familiar that we have become flippant with our use of them.
When we are little, we knew the power of words. The word “no” could stop us from doing almost anything. And we can use it to stop almost anything to be done to us.
But as we grew, we stop paying close attention.
Last month, I wrote about Junk Dating. Although catchy, it is not entirely accurate. I could named it bulk dating, or dating by numbers, but I didn’t. And it turned out that some of my past dates (who became dear friends) read the article and believe they are junk. Because after all, I didn’t put a ring on their finger.
The whole “sticks and stones” metaphor can be dangerous. When a stone can bruise, you will heal from it. But when a torrent of words undermines your view of what’s possible, you might never recover.
While I carelessly throw away my own words, my dates also carelessly hoard those words.
Words matter. They can hurt, injure and be mean. Or they can open doors, light a path and make a difference. Your choice.
(P.s. None of my past dates are junk. Junk Dating is merely a process of finding out what I want, and what works for me.)