On Healing 7/7/2003: Like sticks and stones, words truly can harm you

As we celebrate the anniversary of our Constitution, think about what the document actually is: words.

They are words that shaped this nation. Words can also destroy a nation. The words of Sen. Joseph McCarthy came close to destroying all of the freedoms the Constitution affords. Words can wound a nation, words can begin or end war, and words can injure a psyche.

There are two kinds of injuries to the psyche – big ones like divorce, illness or violence. And then there are little injuries – the hurts we almost don’t notice. Often I think it is the little ones that cause more damage. Like when children make fun of each another, or when parents say things like: “You are so lazy (or needy, or irresponsible).” Or when our partner frequently complains about us. Each one of these by themselves may not be much of a problem, but the pain accumulates.

Most of us were told, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me.” However, ask anyone who experiences low self-esteem or is self-critical if that aphorism is true. How many of us still remember criticism by a teacher? Or someone who told us we weren’t good enough or smart enough? Certainly the kids responsible for the Columbine shootings knew the pain of words.

By now you are probably remembering all of the times you have been hurt by words; maybe hurts you didn’t even notice at the time, like when someone rolled their eyes at you and said: “Whatever.”

These words hurt because we are social animals, and how we experience ourselves depends, in part, on how the community reacts to us. So if we grow up in a family that sees us as a troublemaker, an underachiever, or a burden, then that’s how we will begin to see ourselves. If we are in a relationship where we are judged and frequently criticized, we will begin to feel badly about ourselves.

Despite knowing the pain these words cause, we still use them to hurt others.

Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, in his book, Words That Hurt, Words That Heal, describes how he asks audiences if they could imagine not saying harsh words either about or to anyone for 24 hours. He goes on to say that he consistently finds that the vast majority say they cannot imagine doing a full day without some form of criticism or gossip.

Why?

Murray Bowen, one of the originators of family therapy, explains that most two-person relationships are unstable. When we are one-on-one, just talking about ourselves, anxiety frequently builds. And the best way to diminish the anxiety is to talk about a third person. Any of us who have ever been in a conversation know that once we began talking about a third person, the discussion soon focuses on their faults. So that if you and I agree that the third person has “issues,” then we have just created the illusion of closeness.

There are other reasons for criticism. Criticizing someone else could be the voice of frustration, helplessness, or exasperation. It could be an attempt to help you feel better about yourself. It can be the voice of injustice: “You are never on time, and I am always embarrassed by your behavior.”

The problem with these criticisms is that they rarely achieve their goal. When we condemn someone, we don’t feel better about ourselves, less frustrated or exasperated, and we rarely find justice.

As a matter of fact, criticizing others causes us harm. Negative emotions expressed are negative emotions felt.

Think about how you feel when you express negative thoughts or feelings toward someone. In addition to hurting others, these words contribute to our own sense of alienation. The more faults we find in others, the more alone we feel. This holds true whether we are criticizing loved ones, neighbors, ethnic groups, or even other countries. I have witnessed many family dinner conversations lead to the discussion centered on a “crazy neighbor,” or an ethnic group. Although the motive might be to make us feel better than them, the result is that we feel different from them. And the more we criticize, the more alone we feel.

I treated a man whose child had died about a year earlier. At the time of his child’s death, the man was a high-achieving executive who did not hesitate to use aggressive language at work and at home. Having experienced the terrible pain of losing a child, he began to feel compassion for all people who suffer. One day he came into my office and said, “You know, I just realized that in the past several months, I have not said one harsh word to or about anyone. And I feel better in many respects. I feel better about myself, better about those around me, and more loving towards my world.”

Maybe if we want to change the world, we need to “talk the talk” – for just one day.