The Beauty of Ouch

I have spent the last 20 years (give or take) learning how to express my negative feelings; you know the ones -- anger, hurt, disappointment, fear, intimidation, etc. For someone who grew up in an emotionally abusive home, this has been quite a wild ride. After discovering I had a voice (dammit) I took far too many liberties with it, mostly at my husband and kids, and I did a lot of damage in the name of my healing. *sigh*

While I certainly made some big strides on this journey, the road was long with many a winding turn. About five years ago, I felt the Lord gently say to me, "Just because you CAN say something, doesn't mean you SHOULD." This was in the context of keeping my mouth shut at women's Bible studies where certainly the world would come to an end if I didn't speak up about certain things. (Ah, don't we love it when He points out spiritual pride?) But I soon realized this word applied to all areas of my life. Thus a new adventure began, of understanding I can CHOOSE not to speak and that doesn't mean someone is oppressing or squelching me. It doesn't mean I've lost my voice; it means I'm gaining some wisdom and discipline to know how to use that voice well. I don't think any of us ever gets this right 100% of the time, but since I came from such a deficit it felt a bit like learning how to walk. There have been times when I stayed silent when it became clear down the road that I should have spoken up, and vice-versa...sometimes about trivial things; sometimes about crucial issues. What a journey.

Somewhere along the way, I discovered the beauty of ouch. It's such a small word; I love how it feels in my mouth. Finding one's ouch is an important thing. What causes me to ouch might not cause you to ouch, and so it helps us understand each other more. Ouch doesn't accuse. It doesn't say, "YOU did this and YOU are bad/wrong/unacceptable." It says, "That hurt/stung/bothered ME." It helps to "keep things in the I" as therapists and communication instructors tell us over and over again.

Sometimes we don't know what to do with ouch. Defenses rise up ("I didn't do anything wrong!") or judgments are made ("You're too sensitive!"). I know I haven't always known what to do with someone else's ouch. Now I understand that one of the most beautiful phrases in the English language is, "I'm sorry that hurt you." This is such a gentle way to come alongside the person you care about and let them know you have heard and respected their ouch. (And if you're in the same room, a hug can be nice, too. At least for me.)

I recently had an exchange with a friend; "I need to say ouch," I said. I explained why. They listened and apologized, explaining what had been going on with them. I listened and forgave. It was over in about two minutes. That's a beautiful thing. Two minutes to avoid walls being built. Two minutes to create safety and freedom. It's a risk to do this, though, isn't it? It takes a leap of faith and humility; when I say ouch, I feel unguarded and vulnerable. However, I know one thing for sure (à la Oprah) -- if I *don't* have those conversations, then those two minutes of unspoken hurt/anger/disappointment will add up to days and years of suppressed feelings which damage my soul and build walls between me and others. It's taken a long time but I think I'm finally getting it through my head and heart that the more I do this, the less riskier it feels, especially in relationships where room and respect for our ouches has been established.

I am grateful for the people in my life who have also discovered the beauty of ouch....who take the risk with me, and who care for me when I do the same. You know who you are.

"Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble." - 1Peter 3:8