I am a big believer in words and the power that they hold. It’s incredible to me how one simple sentence, one simple word even, can stop someone in their tracks and make them completely silent.
I have grown up in a house that, for the most part, has allowed me to speak freely. I can say how I feel whether it’s sassy or mean or politically incorrect as long as I’m willing to accept whatever comeback might come my way from the people who are listening. It’s a simple system, really. There is a lot to say for being raised in an atmosphere that all at once taught me free speech and being held accountable for my actions.
The one thing that I still, to do this day, feel like I am unable to say is that I hate something.
I would like to thank my grandpa for instilling in me the idea that to hate something was to really, truly, despise it, as if every fibre of your being couldn’t possibly handle the sight of whatever it was. To this day, I can’t say that I hate something without my hearing my grandfather say, “Hate is a very strong word.”
More times than not, I immediately take back saying that I hate something at that point.
Normally I feel pretty put out when someone tries to muffle whatever I’m trying to say but every time I hear that voice and I see his face, stern but always with a hint of a smile when he looked at me, teaching me about the gravity of the word hate I am very thankful.
He was right, after all. It’s important to learn the lesson of how far is too far, and how strong is too strong. I think it’s a good thing for all people to learn – to know what words carry with them too much meaning, too much emotion for what they’re trying to say.
So next time you hear me say I hate something, or you read it here, I promise you that after I’ve typed it, after I’ve said it, I guarantee I have heard it:
Hate is a very strong word.