A thief of joy stole my words

A week or two ago, I wrote about being kind – that words have consequences and we should try to build people up. A day or two after writing that, I was walking my dog. A neighbor, staring out his window whose view was obscured by trampoline netting, mistakenly thought that I did not clean up after my pet. Though I can understand being annoyed by that, I had, as I always do, cleaned up after him. He came at me threatening violence and screaming the worst obscenities. He threatened to attack my small pup. The man clearly had anger issues. I was frightened that this neanderthal would physically harm me or my dog. I also felt protective – fight or flight would not kick in. I stood with my feet on the border of each – do I protect my dog or myself. Do I insist that he is wrong, as I knew him to be and could in fact show him or do I simply walk away and not engage? I attempted to speak to him, but in his mental state, he was not hearing reason. This seemed like such an extreme over-reaction. I tried to put myself in his position – maybe his kids had stepped in something and tracked it into his car or house. But even for anger at that kind of circumstance, this man’s reaction was unhinged. His parting shot was to cast aspersions on me. In short, he called me a “fat whore.”

Now for those who know and have been reading a while, I have always struggled with weight as well as my appearance. I am not confident. I go the gym but genetics and age are working against me. I have lost about 30 – 40 pounds gradually, but it will never be enough. I will always hate picture of me that show my full body. I will never be happy with the reflection in the mirror. Even if I lost all the weight I should, it won’t be enough I will always find a reason to criticize it as I have been taught and has been bred in me since the beginning of time (if you can pinch more than an inch…..). But I work very hard to be accepting and proud of my body (after all, she grew two beautiful human beings, kind of a big deal.) And my arms (though I will always loathe them) and shoulders have supported countless friends and family. My knees might give me a hard time, but they have run and played for decades and will continue to do so. I find reasons to love it. But his words threw me – words that bullies have said time and time again. Because it is easy to know that someone is aware of their body type – a safe bet that they are not happy with it – and an easy leap that saying something about their flaws will mess with their psyche. I am honestly surprised that this “gentleman” had enough thought processes to put it together, but bullies always do.

I was devastated the day it happened. I felt scared, overwhelmed, sad, destroyed – all the things. I bounced back okay, but I have since realized I stopped writing. I stopped sharing the things I have created. I stopped working on new material. I stare at a computer screen and do everything to avoid it. Why? Because even though I seem like I have bounced back, from this stupid five minute exchange, it brought back all the insecurities of – you will never be enough. You will never be beautiful. You will never be pretty. You are not a good enough writer. You are not talented. You will never be successful or as successful as whomever someone wants to compare you to. You will never be enough. And the words play like a constant refrain in my head. I gave his words too much power, probably because I have heard them so many times over the years – like salt on a still open wound.

It just goes back to what I was saying. Choose kindness. Choose your words carefully. Let your characters reflect our vulnerabilities. Look to the people who are never seen and give them a reflection of themselves in your books. Let your heroes be flawed, be different. Writing perfection is easy, making characters human is hard. And never ever let a thief of joy steal your words.