To my sensitive ears and heart, they sounded mean. This was not the approval that the desert of my heart needed to
water it. The laughter ran on one broken track record, "You are an idiot. You are not enough."
The sounds demolished the satisfaction I'd felt moments earlier at my triumph. I'd written and directed a play that everyone seemed to love. They laughed with me. I was a part of a pack, and they loved my
contribution. I was on cloud nine. I was excellent at this.
And then I spoke Jamaican patois. The tone of the laughter changed instantly. Suddenly they weren't laughing with me. They were laughing at me.
They say, “pride comes before a fall”. My bruised heart understood that now perfectly. The moments before had pushed me all the way up on a high seat. I became Miss Thomas' puss, who was about to get killed by a fall from an extremely high seat. The first round of laughter was the push I didn't see coming. I hit the ground hard. My ego, pride, and self-worth splattered. Declared dead on
impact.
That day, at 14 years old, I sentenced myself to life in a prison of perfectionism and people-pleasing. For decades. Because what if they called me stupid again?
Here's what Jesus says about words like "stupid" and "idiot" - and why they carry the power to murder your God-given identity and the God-given identity of others.
