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I was recently in a conversation with a lifelong friend, my sister. We were discussing an impending tropical storm (turned out to be Hurricane Debby), and the usual preparations dialogue. Naturally, the storm’s path was key to which options would be considered, and my sister said she thought the storm would track to the east. This concerned her because she added that the west side of a hurricane is where the most damaging weather is found.

I replied (something like), “I think you’re wrong; it’s the northeastern side of a hurricane where the most violent weather boils.” There was a slight pause, her voice dropped a bit, and she softly replied, “Oh, ok…” Our conversation moved on for another half hour or so.

Like a hurricane, it was only after our conversation that I realized what damage my words had imparted. On the surface, there was very little to see. We had a great talk, we told each other we loved each other, and moved on with the day. But I could not shake the moment, when I could hear in her voice, and feel from her demeanor, that I had forced her into a defensive stance. In that moment of reflection, I recognized that it was not what I said, but how I said it. I was divisive; just the ever-so-slightest bit, but divisive all the same. My choice of saying “you’re wrong” was not only correcting a meteorological fact, but it was a critical comment on her; and while she wasn’t consciously offended, what I could hear in her voice and immediately demurring reaction, equally ever-so-slightly, was telling. I realized I used that moment to establish a sense of superiority; that I knew something she did not and asserted that position in an passive-aggressive way.

I don’t believe there is a one of us, who ever wants or likes to be made to feel inferior; wrong; broken. We want to feel that our presence is worthy and valued. It hurts to recognize when we’re made to feel differently; even more so by trusted friend or family.

I made a connection to that moment with the all-too-real surreal state of the country; where good friends & family are being separated by ideologies that neither can accept, nor understand how the other can think that way. So has it been for mankind for thousands of years. Throughout all of them, there have been manageable times of debate and discourse; but there have also been seemingly inevitable slides into chaos, violent conflicts, and all-out wars. I believe it is the small moments, the unintentional and unfortunate choice of words, that work their way deepest into our spirit. We may not feel hurt consciously, but way down there…we resent. And the resentment can act like a dormant virus, one we never identify as we choose to distance ourselves ever so slightly away from those we once felt so safe, secure and trusting of. By the time we realize we no longer like them, we’ve long forgotten the seed that was sown.

The human psyche is so fragile and complex, and even the most passive assertion is still aggressive. Its toll may take time, as small incidents compound, but I believe while time heals all wounds, they also leave scars behind.

I coulda shoulda rephrased. My intention would have been equally met, without the subconsciously delivered insult. I coulda shoulda said, “I have always understood the worst weather in a hurricane is on the northeast side. Either way, it’s probably a good idea to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.” You know, sumfin’ like that.

Such a small, real-time adjustment that would affect the same information, but leave no scar.

#WordsMatter