Never Allow Your Mouth to Get Ahead of Your Heart

Once words leave our launchpad, reverse is not an option

The subtle crack in my cousin’s voice when she said, “I am so sorry for my behavior,” showed she felt pricked by the thorny line crossed and would need to backpedal to the smooth velvety side of love between us.

Not being able to filter or hold back her thoughts with the vast potential to hurt someone, do irrevocable damage, and end an important relationship has plagued her very existence.

The word sorry is salve, but cannot always seep skin deep beneath surface layers of hurt or pain to heal a wounded heart.

I’ve witnessed her loss in a trail of broken relationships over the years, along with family members who have stopped talking to her — not because she’s a bad person or wicked to the core.

She has good qualities too, but doesn’t understand the not so good qualities define what she’s often remembered for — people don’t forget how you make them feel.

At what point is it enough to overlook another’s fatal flaw? None of us are without them. My flaw is I can forgive, but never forget — the price of an elephant’s memory and the key to both our survival on this bitter earth.

It’s not like she isn’t self aware either. If you’ve lived your entire life making the same mistake because of a pattern of behaviors — is it not your responsibility to correct for your sake and others?

Because of love, I’ve accepted a good amount of her foolishness — occasionally stopped talking to her. Who should shoulder the burden of being in a relationship with someone who doesn’t think before they speak?

Love is all encompassing in that it can heal a wound or prolong the suffering.

First, let’s establish a ground rule — people know when they’ve crossed a boundary into risky territory. Some do it for effect, to hurt, get back at someone for a perceived wrong, or a mere slip of the tongue because they could no longer hold back the thoughts they’ve been engaging.

From experience, I know my cousin has lost her decorum for every single one of these reasons. I’ve witnessed it, marveled in sheer disbelief at the audacity. She and her brother haven’t spoken for years.

We were having a conversation over the phone last week when she said something horrible — I consider the lowest of the low about a close family member.

The worst part is her statement was based on pure hearsay — no firsthand knowledge. I asked her pointedly, what she thought I should do with the information and why I needed it in my memory bank. It was an assault on my good senses.

My thought being — if I can’t address it, there’s no point in bringing it to the light. Let it die a slow death in the dark whence it came.

“Nothing, continue to live your life.” The added callousness made my blood boil.

“Do you ever once think about the consequences of your actions before it’s too late?”

I paused several minutes hoping she could muster the courage to meet me in the shadows of truth, then gave her three reasons it was off the rails wrong — did not shed a loving light nor respect for me or our family member.

Silence, as if her brain had finally caught up with her heart much too late. When she spoke, the backpedaling and stuttering illuminated volumes — told me all I needed to know as a truth seeker.

Livid, I blasted her through the phone. Each thought fired from the molten tip of the burning arrow she ignited in my heart. I made it clear I thought it was reprehensible for those words to slither out of her mouth sideways. Okay, not the word I used. Afterwards, we both said our goodbyes in a clipped tone.

I tossed and turned that night, rewinding not only what she said, but how she said it. Speaking of tone, inflection speaks louder than words. By morning, the acid of hurt and anger coated my throat. I had to spit it out. I called her. She picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey, I wanted to clarify my anger. It wasn’t what you said per se, although that was bad enough, your tone escalated my reaction. Plus the fact you based it on hearsay.”

Before I could finish my piece, she begged for forgiveness, choked up, said she was so ashamed of herself for such stupidity that she would have to take it to the grave — whined she’d never try to hurt me. Except the hurt had already launched.

“I accept your apology.”

My anger is no longer glue sticking to my throat. I felt better and wanted forgiveness to alter my emotional crash course. I wondered if she was so sorry — why didn’t she call me?

Yet, the moment I hung up the phone, I knew our relationship would never be the same. Something had shifted in the days following.

The problem and power of words for me is I can never unhear them. Is it just me? They linger on in tone, inflection, and nuance inside my head and penetrate my heart—I’m sure something to do with my high sensitivity. Is my brand of forgiveness less honest if I can still hear and feel hurt by words?

This makes words problematic when people use them with reckless abandon — especially if we are in a mutually valued close relationship. I’d like to think no one goes though life trampling on the feelings of others for kicks, although I know some people do to compensate for their own pain.

Not that I’ve never fallen short in the heat of a disagreement, albeit I’m always mindful — doing my best to use words wisely.

I don’t think words are any different from any other external representation of ourselves. They clothe us. Tell people who we are — what we think.

The fact we’re all human should elevate our awareness of how we affect other human beings. Words are a gift to be respected, revered for the ability they give us to communicate with each other in a civilized, thoughtful manner.

Watch your thoughts, they become your words; watch your words, they become your actions; watch your actions, they become your habits; watch your habits, they become your character; watch your character, it becomes your destiny.” ~ Lao Tzu