Your Tongue is a Scalpel

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Hi there beautiful people, I was blessed to spend some quality time with my friends today and a thought bounced around in my head for a bit.

When I was younger my mom used to say I had a bladed tongue due to how sharp my statements would be in conversations. As I grew older it grew to have a different meaning; me and my mother would get into arguments where she would go through great lengths to belittle me and make me feel worthless. During these arguments, I would respond back to her comments in a way that wasn't untrue but in a way, trying my best to fight back in the way that a young boy could. My mother was a larger woman (no hate or anything) but the size difference between us was apparent up until my early teens. 

When I was older, around 16, I asked my mom if she remembered calling my tongue bladed. She thought for a while and although she probably could remember, she chose to deny it.

When I chose to move out against the malevolent wishes and actions of my parents, I chose to stand up and say things that I finally could, as I was putting a bad situation behind me. The last time my mother ever referred to my tongue as bladed was during that conversation with my mother as I moved out. I had screamed at her with every ounce of hate that I could, my muscles had tightened and clenched and I knew I was red from every possible indication I could feel. My mother had then told me "You and your "Stupid Bladed Tongue"(imagine a high pitched damsel in distress voice here), you think because you're older you can talk to people however you want." 

"Maybe your tongue is bladed, but in the way it shoulda been cut off"

For a while after I moved out, I chose to go in the opposite direction then I normally did, and I shut the fuck up for once. 

Since then I've become a lot more quiet and reserved and the comment from my mother stung, but what I realized from this, is that maybe my tongue is bladed, but blades don't have to just cut others down.

Something I've always tried my best at, was making sure that no one ever felt alone or that they didn't have someone to reach out to. I pride myself in how many people I've helped pull away from bad places simply just from having a friend there, when no one else chose to. 

After talking to people for a while, there's similarities within people and problems, excluding the obvious nuance of each one. You learn about each person and how the events of their life brought them here. You ask questions find something you have in common with your fellow man and find similarities so that you can the, find something to relate to and have as a frame of reference and comradery going forward. 

As you peel back each layer of what makes a person, a person, you find what ever issues may be inside. A doctor would find a tumor and cut it out no? Why can a blade be used safely, with care and precision. 

I know you guys are smart cookies and can probably imagine what I'm getting at now with my analogy of a title, but the idea of something i was told to hate, something that I carried a great dislike for, I have now come to deeply appreciate. I'm not trying to get on my savior complex shit, none of that. This was more about me understanding the nuance and reframing of my own mind. How something I thought to be bad or inherently made for malicious intent, could be something I know utilize and am proud of. 

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