Someone says something awful to you and you just stand there, powerless and hurt.
Then, later that day or the next it comes to you: the just-right poison cocktail of words you should have said to deliver the perfect knock-out verbal punch.
Except that if someone says something mean to me and I think of a lethal slingshot retort and hurl it at them just in time, I feel terrible afterward.
Except that whenever I have been in possession of the sought-after perfect comeback, it made me feel worse rather than better.
Working on developing them exercises a nasty side of me I would rather never nurture. Why would I want to get proficient at being cruel?
Just because someone hurts you doesn’t mean you have to hurt yourself too.
You can’t regret things you didn’t say.
You don’t need to apologize or forgive yourself for something you refrained from doing.
You can’t feel small if you never deliberately cut yourself down.
This is how I discovered that when things get ugly, the most powerful thing is silence.