Time to put the swords down
Never take communication for granted. I think that will be my motto. I mean, it's so true.
Because communication can fail not only in how we understand another person's intentions, but also in how we express our own feelings, needs, and wants. How we can fail even when our intentions are the best.
Not so long ago, I realized that my own communication style can be full of swords as well.
Not because I want it to be. Not because that's how I truly feel.
But because it became such a part of me that I didn't even realize I was carrying those swords.
Which I never wanted.
I honestly had to dig so incredibly deep into this rabbit hole to realize it, and I still don't fully understand the extent of it.
I always knew that my words could cut deeply. That I can either make or destroy people for the same reason I mentioned in a previous post: sooner or later, I see through masks. I see people's vulnerabilities, and I know exactly where I would have to stick that sword.
It can be a blessing because, if I use it well and at the right time, the pain it causes can bring clarity, leading someone out of something that no longer serves them.
But when I don't use it intentionally, or when I speak from anger, or simply at the wrong time—when the other person isn't ready for the truth—I cause nothing but harm.
That love story became a huge lesson in this as well. It showed me that my words, when I carry those swords, can cause damage that never should have happened.
How I can push someone away who is genuinely trying to be honest with me without even realizing it.
Because I failed to recognize how deeply that truth affected him. To me, it was something extremely trivial—something I had kind of known since day one. Honestly, I couldn't have cared less about it.
Yet when I wanted to talk about it after he finally tried to tell me the truth, I was carrying so many swords that he started acting like a wounded animal trapped in a corner.
And now I understand why.
Honestly, it makes perfect sense.
Because I was carrying those swords even when my intentions were full of openness and curiosity. Full of genuinely pure intentions.
And how did I end up with this realization?
A few days ago, I started wondering why some people trust me deeply from day one and want to share their whole lives with me, while others think I'm extremely judgmental.
Which, if they actually take the time to talk to me, they quickly realize isn't true at all.
The older I get, the less judgmental I become. Life has humbled me enough.
So I started digging into it, and I realized that the answer lies in my words.
So yeah... this is something I really need to learn to handle.
Because I don't want my words to destroy.
I want them to build.