“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” I remember repeating this saying to myself as a kid, trying to convince myself, through my tears, that it was true. With childlike innocence, the desire to please, and the extra sensitivity that somehow was part of the person God created me to be, harsh words cut like knives into my soul. Especially as a child. Other kids chanted this statement with a smile whenever anyone said anything mean to them. Why couldn’t I? I would repeat it in my head, over and over and over again. Like a broken record cued to play the moment someone started to say something hurtful. I was determined to convince myself it was true, so no one could hurt me. But I couldn’t. Because it’s not.