I cry over things people say and do, I actually cry a lot actually - more than anyone realizes.
But the words hurt not because of the words themselves, but because of personal expectations or desires surrounding them.
To give an example I had desperately wanted to find others with my same religious beliefs online, waited 10 years to find them, but when I actually did I found they don't like me or particularly accept me / want me around them - I certainly cried, utterly heartbroken but it wasn't because the words themselves had any power.
A word doesn't spill my blood or do anything physically to me and taking my leave from where I'm not wanted isn't anything but a thing - life goes on.
The only pain there is, is in the pain of losing the hope, the hope of finding my brother's and sisters, the hope of having people to speak about my faith with who won't hate me the second I do, the hope of actually fitting in with people I share a faith with.
It was all stupidity as I'm absolutely and utterly alone, I feel like Elijah, wasn't it? when he lamented of being the last one and the people sought even his life.
People often seem to only love you if you give them fealty and agree with every thought, if you don't, they simply hate you.
But none of that actually matters at all. It's just personal expectations gone wrong. They were unrealistic, and it's the disappointment from unrealistic expectations that makes us cry and breaks our heart.
Wanting a faith peer group online that I can participate in? Unrealistic.
Finding brothers and sisters in the faith who might love me more than most other people - very stupid and unrealistic.
The second I open my mouth I will be rejected and hated by someone, or even by everyone, whether they share my faith or not I am just a hated thing by every one.
But that's okay because it's just words, and we can choose what we do with those words. If I cry it's because I allowed it to hurt me, and I don't have to allow it.
I can realize that my friends don't have to share my faith or even that maybe they do if they are even remotely willing to be friends with someone like myself, even if I can't talk to them about my faith and rejoice with them in my God.
We are all just alone, we live alone, even in a crowded room, and we will die just as alone and the only thing that even can hurt us in a word is what we allow it to do.
In the last three weeks I have lost a dear friend, remembered the anniversary of my daughter's birthday, remembered the anniversary of 9/11 and the anniversary of someone else's death and watched Charlie Kirk's assassination.
I have been absolutely crushed with grief on top of grief on top of more grief and have few friends in life. There was so much grief this year, packed into such a short space of time it's unreal.
But in life my positive is a husband who will hold me when I fall apart if I need him to, friends who, while they don't share my beliefs, do seem to like me when I'm not talking about them well enough.
That's more than most people have in life, so it's all good.
Sticks and stones will break my bones but words can never hurt me isn't about the emotional pain or unrealistic expectations that we allowed in, it's saying someone calling you names, asking you to shut up because they don't care what you think and they certainly won't suffer 5 seconds worth of actial dialogue with you - it's saying that word or those words aren't going to severe your carotid artery and have you bleed out in front of your babies so there's more important things to be concerned about.
People do that, not words.
And people like myself, if we ever don't want to feel alone, know we aren't really alone if we have Jesus. He just occasionally allows us to feel that way, and it's to us to learn and grow from it.
Jesus says we won't be loved by the world, apparently it seems to mean anything that has flesh will hate us. So okay, I will be the hated last one, and give them a reason to hate. I don't suppose to go be a hermit then is what Jesus wanted.
I bet there's a lot of hated last one's,, and words make us cry where you can't see, but we know the difference between them and a bullet ripping through our carotid artery, and words don't stop us anymore.