“Okay, we’re going to take this scene from the top. Settle down. Everybody settle down!” Eric, the overworked director of our school play, attempted to regain control of the shrieking gaggle of elementary school kids, who were running around the school gym instead of performing onstage. Our rendition of "Charlotte’s Web" was opening the following day, and I assure you that that night, Eric was probably wishing he was on a warm beach with a mai tai instead. When parents dumped their sugar-hyped kids at the over-heated gymnasium and bailed, it turned into a zoo and ultimately became babysitting—this was not what he had signed up for.

I was pretty thrilled to have been playing the part of Fern, but that night, all I wanted was some ice cream and a nap. I was 10, worn out, impatient, and squirmy—my bandana was too tight, my mic was buzzing, the stage lights were blazing, and the screaming kids were giving me a headache. Particularly, my classmate’s little sister, Sarah (Baby Spider #3), had been following me around all night shouting and laughing, and I was at my wit’s end. Hadn’t I been excited to do this play? All I wanted now was to go home.

After I slayed my scene, I rushed backstage with my fellow actors, and we escaped to the bathroom to loiter and de-stress. We talked and laughed, and I complained. My exhaustion and the bliss of the sanctuary I found in that bathroom caused me to be blunt and carefree with my words. “Hey, Claudia, can you fix my bandana? I don’t want to do this anymore, I’m sick of this. We aren’t getting anything done. And Sarah is being SO annoying tonight.”

After another five minutes of preteen dawdling, we finally emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and reenergized. The high of my social hour came to a screeching halt when I was caught by my father (one of the few parents who actually stayed to help with the kids). Something about his facial expression was unsettling, and when he pulled me aside and began to speak softly into my ear, I knew that something was really wrong. “Kennedy, your mic was on the entire time you were in the bathroom. The whole gym heard what you said about Sarah, and she’s crying in the other room.”

My stomach dropped and my mind began to race. I can’t believe this. What exactly did I say? Was it worse than I thought? I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, does she know that? Eric, exasperated and dog-tired, ended the rehearsal after that. I cried myself to sleep that night—it was embarrassing, obviously, but it wasn’t just that. There was a hole in my heart because I had humiliated my friend. I hadn’t meant to hurt anybody with my words, that was never my intention. But that’s exactly what happened.

The experience caused me to discover the true power of my words. That night, my thoughtless rambling caused some real emotional damage. Yeah, Sarah was being a pill that night, but she was harmless, and ultimately a sweet kid. She didn’t deserve to hear those words about her. And what’s worse, imagine how she felt hearing them over a speaker system—that is nothing short of horrifying. Taking into account how it made me look as a person (which, I assure you, was not good), it’s clear to see that the whole situation was a mess. I was young, but I should have been more careful with my words.

This example serves as a decent metaphor for the true wicked power of negative words. The truth is, words do hurt people—sometimes even the words you don’t intend to hurt people with.Sometimes even the smallest comments make a huge impact without our knowing it. Things like, “You look tired.” “You’re just a hot mess today.” “Is that what you’re wearing?” We’ve all gotten them, and we’ve probably all said them, too, without thinking about their influence. Though those statements seem harmless, they can eat away at even the most confident of people.

There is a lesson to take away from my childhood mistake—imagine that everything you say is miked and being blasted through the speakers. Whether you’re talking about a person, life situations, or even yourself—the words that come out of your mouth affect the world around you.

What’s more, your words are also a reflection of who you are on the inside. Luke 6:45 says, "What you say flows from what is in your heart." I’ve tried to shift my view to seeing people and situations through God’s eyes and that has changed my life. Consequently, the words I speak have changed to words of love.

That humiliating event from my youth was the beginning of a change in me. After that, I never wanted to make anybody feel badly because of something I said ever again. Granted, that wasn’t the last time I ever said anything that I regretted, but I’ve become more aware of how my words make others feel and how they reflect on me.

Now, I try my best to always speak positively and build people up with the things I say—not because I feel guilty or obligated to, but because it’s who I’ve become. I just want to make people feel good about themselves and have a positive effect on the world around me. Imagine a world where that was the goal of every single person; it would be a pretty great place to live. The fact is, the things you say have an impact—good or bad. They can build someone up or destroy someone entirely. Use them wisely.