I had laid the boys down and done my workout, organized my pile (I hate that I have a pile!) by the computer and re-wrote my to-do list while watching The Office, when I decided to see if there were any new blog posts to read tonight. Much to my surprise, there were a few. I clicked them all open, letting them load, waiting excitedly as I clicked from one to another, then another. I saved the best for last. Enjoying the small things. She inspires me even when she is talking about not feeling inspired. Her pictures are amazing, her children beautiful, and her writing real.
Never more so than tonight.
In this post.
About criticism.
Recently, on my birthday in fact, I received a nasty, personal attack in the form of a Facebook message.
What happened was this: Someone was offended by the telling of my life story. A couple sentences of truth that, without intent, hurt feelings. The letter I received was written on behalf of the injured party. I read the first sentence. "Don't you know that words can hurt?" I was laying in bed, excited for my big day, a shared birthday party that afternoon, and suddenly I was full of anxiety. I instantly closed the message.
I kept repeating that first line in my head.
"Don't you know that words can hurt?"
"Don't you know that words can hurt?"
"Don't you know that words can hurt?"
Words can hurt.
Indeed.
The letter was not worth reading, the words most decidedly full of hate & venom, so I protected myself (and my birthday) by choosing not to read it. As soon as I came downstairs I told Josh about it, and informed him that I planned on reading it the next day. When he came downstairs after his shower he asked me anxiously if I had read it yet. No, I assured him, I had not, and would not, until Monday morning. "Good," he breathed out. "Don't. I want you to delete it. I read it. You don't need to read that." I could tell his heart was pounding and he was upset.
Words can hurt.
I wanted to read it, but I knew that Josh knew what was best for me. I let him protect me.
I have heard it said that hurting people hurt. And when someone takes the time to comment on a blog post, respond to a status update or voice an opinion, often the pain in their words is not meant for you.
Regardless of the reason behind their words, though, you want to respond. You want to defend yourself, your children, your choices, your writing... But what would that accomplish? And so I journaled. I addressed some of the topics Josh mentioned from the letter, and I tried to let it go. Ultimately, instead of hurting, the words inspired. Just as Kelle's did tonight:
Some of my favorite, most heartfelt, honest posts have had the least number of comments. Perhaps I struck a nerve, or maybe I missed the target entirely. That's okay. What's important is that I listen to my own heart, what wants to be written, wants to be shared. And in this new year, as I shared with you earlier this week, my number one goal is to own my truth.
If I feel an emotion, I want to own it.
If I engage in a behavior, I want to own it.
If I write something on my blog, I want to own it.
Immediately after the letter, I posted this list of life lessons. I wasn't ready yet to address the negativity specifically. But as the months have passed, I have grown stronger. Ever since then, what should bring me joy (that little red number, indicating I have a message) instead has made my stomach flip.
But also, words can heal.
And reading Kelle's take on criticism and negativity has inspired me to post what is in my heart on my blog, regardless of the consequences.