Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones...

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words pierced my heart.  Today someone I trust very much and who's opinion I value greatly said some not very nice things about me to my face.  The words may have rung with a modicum of truth, so you obviously felt that I needed to hear them right then.  There's a part of me that would like to call it "tough love" and brush it off as a growing and learning experience, but that part seems to be the part filleted to the bone by the sharp words.  Mostly I call it a betrayal.

Most words may be just words, but many words can be used as weapons depending on the wielder.  I'm an emotional soul.  Borderline empathic, my validators come from external sources and I - more often than not - consider someone else's hurt feelings over my own.  Letting someone inside means giving them the power to hurt me with very little effort.  That's what happened today.  I let someone in and was carved into tiny little pieces then pushed out the door with a half-hearted fare-the-well.

I'm way too ashamed to repeat what was said or even give you a hyper-quick overview, but know that the words have echoed in my head for just over 10 hours now.  You would think that at - ahem - 25 years in this world (more like 34 and counting...), I would have grown some self esteem and not cared what anyone says or thinks about me.  I haven't.

What's my point to all of this cloak and dagger reference to a potentially juicy story?  Watch your words.  You may think nothing of the daggers you are throwing, but the recipient will feel every little knife point and resent you for it.