Something has been on my mind lately, and it has made me think more deeply about the words we use when we are hurt. I’ve always believed that our words are powerful. Not only the words we use when we speak to ourselves, but also the words we choose when we speak about – and to – other people.
One thing that has particularly caught my attention is how casually we can sometimes reduce another person to a negative label. Words like “Dickhead”, “Shithead”, “Idiot”, “Asshole”. The list can go on.
Now, I understand that there can be a story behind those words. People get hurt. They get betrayed, disappointed, humiliated, controlled, disrespected, shouted at or let down. Sometimes deeply. And when we’re hurting, strong language can feel like an outlet. It can give us somewhere to put our anger when we don’t quite know what to do with everything we’re feeling.
Not everyone who uses those strong words is carrying deep hatred. Sometimes it’s simply habitual language, humour, frustration in the moment, or social bonding.
But it has made me wonder: What happens when the words we use to express our hurt start keeping us connected to the very thing that hurt us?
And perhaps an even more important question: Can we be deeply hurt by someone’s behaviour without allowing that hurt to turn us into someone we don’t want to be?
When Anger Is Easier Than Pain
Anger is often easier to feel than sadness. It’s easier to say, “What an idiot!” than to admit, “I trusted this person, and they let me down.”, or “He’s an asshole,” than to say, “What he did really hurt me, and I don’t know what to do with that pain.”
Underneath anger, there can be disappointment, grief, fear, shame, rejection or helplessness.
That doesn’t mean our anger isn’t legitimate.
Sometimes anger is an important signal that something wasn’t okay.
It can tell us that a boundary was crossed, maybe even repeatedly over time, that we were treated unfairly, or that something mattered deeply to us.
The question isn’t necessarily whether we should feel anger. Perhaps the more useful question is:
What are we going to do with it?
When We Turn Behaviour Into Identity
There is a subtle but important difference between describing someone’s behaviour and defining the person. “He behaved like a complete dickhead when he did that.” is very different from: “He’s a dickhead. He’s always been a dickhead. He’s such a dickhead.”
The first describes something that happened. The second begins to create an identity.
And when we repeatedly tell ourselves the same story about someone, we can become increasingly attached to that story. We aren’t simply remembering what happened anymore. We are rehearsing it.
The person may no longer even be present, but we’re still having conversations with them in our heads, replaying what they did, explaining why they’re terrible and collecting more evidence to support our conclusion.
At some point, we may have moved beyond processing what happened and into rehearsing our resentment – and perhaps even imagining ways we could make the other person hurt as much as we do.
The Psychology of Repetition
Our minds are remarkably good at strengthening patterns that we repeatedly think about and talk about.
That doesn’t mean that saying a swear word automatically causes psychological harm. Sometimes people simply have colourful language, and there isn’t necessarily a deep emotional story behind every insult.
But when negative labels become a repeated way of talking about someone, they can keep the emotional charge alive. Every time we retell the story, we may reconnect with the anger. Every time we describe the person in the same negative way, we reinforce our perception of them. And every time we invite someone else into the story with, “Can you believe what that asshole did?”, we may receive validation that encourages us to tell it again.
This is where something that initially helped us release anger can potentially become something that keeps us stuck in it. Without being conscious about it.
Sometimes We Bond Through Outrage
There is another side to this that I find interesting.
Negative talk isn’t always about hatred. Sometimes it’s how people connect.
“Can you believe what she did?”
“He’s such an idiot.”
“I can’t stand that person.”
Friends, colleagues and family members can bond through shared frustration and outrage. It can feel good to have someone say, “You’re right. I agree. They were completely out of order.”
And sometimes that validation is exactly what we need. We need to know that we’re not imagining what happened. We need someone to acknowledge that something wasn’t okay.
But there is a difference between being validated in our experience and being encouraged to remain emotionally attached to the person who hurt us.
We can say: “What happened to you wasn’t okay.” without necessarily saying: “That person is a terrible human being.”
That distinction matters.
What Are We Really Saying?
Perhaps the next time we hear ourselves using a strong label, it is worth pausing for a moment.
What are we actually trying to communicate? “They’re a horrible person.” or perhaps: “What they did was horrible.”
“They’re an idiot.” or: “I can’t understand why they made that choice.”
“I hate them.” or: “I’m still incredibly angry about what happened.”
These may sound like small differences, but they change where we place our attention. One focuses on defining another human being. The other focuses on our experience of what happened.
And when we can separate the person from the behaviour, we create a little more space for ourselves.
You Can Hold Someone Accountable Without Holding Onto Hatred
This is something I’ve been thinking about particularly deeply. Letting go doesn’t mean saying that what happened was okay. It doesn’t mean forgiving someone before you’re ready. It doesn’t mean trusting them again. It doesn’t mean allowing someone back into your life. And it certainly doesn’t mean abandoning your boundaries.
Sometimes the healthiest response to someone’s behaviour is to create distance, or having that difficult conversation. Sometimes it’s to say, “That behaviour is not acceptable to me.”, and maybe walk away.
We can hold people accountable for their behaviour without needing to turn them into villains. Boundaries protect us. Hatred can keep us emotionally connected.
And there is a big difference between the two.
This Became Personal for Me
Interestingly, this subject became even more personal to me recently.
I found myself angry about someone’s behaviour towards me. I felt blamed for something I didn’t feel responsible for, and I felt deeply frustrated by the way the situation was being handled and how it escalated.
In the aftermath, I found myself thinking about my own response. Because it’s easy to notice the way other people behave when they’re angry. It’s much harder – and much more valuable – to look honestly at ourselves when we’re the ones who are hurt.
And then I had to turn the mirror towards myself.
How was I behaving, and what was I saying?
Was I expressing my hurt, or was some of that hurt beginning to come out in ways that could hurt someone else?
I absolutely believe we have the right to speak up when someone’s behaviour hurts us. We have the right to say when something isn’t okay and to stand up for ourselves. We have the right to express disappointment, frustration and anger.
But having the right to feel something doesn’t mean that every response we have is necessarily the response we want to keep. That was an uncomfortable realisation for me.
It made me ask myself: How do I express my hurt without becoming hurtful myself?
Not because I should suppress my feelings, or pretend that everything is okay. And certainly not because I should take responsibility for someone else’s behaviour.
But because I am responsible for my part. My words, reactions, and my choices. And ultimately, what I choose to do with what happened.
Perhaps that is one of the hardest parts of personal growth: recognising that we can be completely justified in feeling hurt and still have something to learn from the way we respond to that hurt.
For me, this isn’t about getting everything right. It’s about becoming more aware. It’s about recognising my own patterns, learning from them, and making a conscious decision not to repeat the same ones in the future.
Because sometimes the most valuable lessons don’t come from looking at what someone else did wrong. Sometimes they come when we are willing to look in the mirror and ask: What can I learn from my own response?
We Don't Always Get to Choose What Happens
There are things in life that we simply don’t control. We don’t control other people’s words, or their choices. We don’t control their denial, their temper, their drinking, their behaviour, their reactions or the way they treat us.
Sometimes we are going to be hurt by other people’s decisions. But there is a point where the experience becomes ours to work with.
We get to decide what meaning we give it, whether we communicate or retaliate. We get to decide whether we establish a boundary or keep engaging. We get to decide whether we continue replaying the story or begin creating a new one.
We may not have chosen the experience. But eventually, we have a choice about what we carry forward from it.
You Can Be Hurt Without Becoming Hurtful
Perhaps this is what I’ve been trying to understand all along. Being hurt doesn’t make us weak. And being angry doesn’t make us bad. Wanting someone to acknowledge the pain they caused doesn’t make us unreasonable.
We are human.
We will sometimes react emotionally.
We will sometimes say things we later wish we’d expressed differently.
The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is awareness.
To notice when anger is speaking for us.
To notice when our words have moved from describing behaviour to attacking identity.
To notice when we’re seeking resolution – or simply looking for somewhere to put our pain.
And perhaps most importantly, to remember that we don’t have to become what hurt us.
Someone can treat us disrespectfully without us becoming disrespectful. Someone can blame us without us needing to blame them back. Someone can behave badly without us needing to destroy their character.
We can speak our truth, and protect ourselves. We can walk away. We can say, “That is not okay with me.” And we can do all of that without filling our hearts with hatred.
What Do You Want to Carry Forward?
Maybe healing isn’t about pretending that nothing happened, or not even about forgiving someone.
Maybe sometimes healing simply means reaching a point where you can say: “What happened mattered. It hurt me. It wasn’t okay. But I don’t want to carry the anger forever.”
Because the person who hurt you may have already moved on. They may not even realise how much space they’re taking up in your mind. And you deserve to have that space back.
So perhaps the next time you find yourself calling someone a name, pause for a moment and ask yourself: What am I really trying to say?
Am I expressing my pain? Am I setting a boundary? Am I asking to be heard? Or am I trying to make someone else hurt because I am hurting? There is no shame in asking ourselves these questions.
Perhaps the real growth isn’t in never getting angry, never reacting, or never saying something we later regret.
Perhaps it is in becoming more aware of what happens when we do.
Because awareness gives us a choice to pause, or repair, or apologise, or we can set a boundary, and even walk away. We can choose differently next time.
We don’t have to be perfect to become better. We simply have to be willing to look honestly at ourselves.
Because we can’t always choose what happens to us. But we can choose who we become in response.
You can be hurt without becoming hurtful.
And perhaps that is one of the greatest forms of strength we can develop.
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Individual results will vary, and results are NOT guaranteed.
