Random Conversations is a newsletter for those who believe in the power of a positive perspective and the joy it brings. It champions intentionally honoring ways of being and promotes the belief that we can change our world, one interaction at a time. Choose the change wisely.

I do not have a gift for learning languages, and I am in awe of those who can speak two or more. I had a taste of being bilingual in college while on a summer exchange program in Italy. One of my favorite memories is the joy of speaking to a neighbor over our balcony railings to (very!) lightly touch on politics and religion in addition to other topics. I was thrilled!!!
My vocabulary was limited, but I was told my accent was very good and that was at least something. More importantly, I could understand and be understood. With my limited proficiency, however, I was not aware of any nuances of the language. And it’s the nuances inherent in different languages that struck me as I read “The Things I Can Write Only in English” by Alex Maroño Porto,1 an associate editor at The Atlantic.
I was fascinated by the different ways Spanish and English, his native and second languages respectively, allowed or inhibited Maroño Porto’s ability to process complex feelings and express them. He mentioned writing to get a sense of an experience in the “familiar passivity” of Spanish, but needing to write in English to analyze his feelings.
He also referred to writing in his native Spanish as enabling a torrent of thoughts to rush onto the page. In English, as an outsider to the language, he needs to determine the precise words to use, which slows down how he processes his thoughts.
I kept Maroño Porto’s article and reread it multiple times over these few months as I thought through the words we use and how we use them. Today, I returned to it again. There is much we can learn from his experience – even those of us who speak one language only.
Words That Kill
Has familiarity with our native language inhibited our use of precise words, as Maroño Porto calls them? Or is it something else that prompts us to use words that don’t quite fit – or, even worse, cause someone discomfort or pain?
I learned the power of words as a child, being on the receiving end of my father’s condemnation and rage. Fast forward a few decades and my marriage repeated the same dynamic. The marriage therapist my now ex-husband agreed to see told me in a private session,
“Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can kill you.”
My marriage died by virtual stab wounds – well, that plus a much younger wife-to-be waiting for him. I have given her a boatload of thanks over the years for taking him away from me!
If he or my father had to struggle for the precise words to use, would it have derailed their tirades? I can see that it would have slowed the onslaught of words aimed at me. That slowing might have eventually limited or even stopped it altogether. I will never know.
Can we slow our thoughts enough to ensure the words we use are the ones that convey our intended meaning? A pause to breathe would sure be welcome. And then maybe another pause.
Precise Words
Several decades ago, I started studying Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy (REBT)2 and reading the work of Albert Ellis. From that time forward, I started paying close attention to the words I use.
It is very easy to “awfulize” or “catastrophize” a situation by using words that refer to the worst possible conclusion. We can also slip in “absolutist” words like always, never, must, should. Additionally, the words we choose affect our emotions. Something that is “impossible” can lead to helplessness and stop us from moving forward, but acknowledging it as “difficult” opens options.
Taking a moment to briefly reflect on the words I choose has served me well – and, I hope, those I interact with. It is that short pause to consider the preciseness of words that makes all the difference.
Cultural Words
My former hair stylist would periodically visit family in Lebanon (where she grew up) and Syria. She told me how they would react when she spoke Arabic – her native language. There wasn’t an issue with her proficiency. The issue was the nuance she lost that nodded to their culture.
She shared an example that showed Arabic to be filled with words that went out of their way to show respect – something at odds with our very direct American expression in English. She asked someone to pass a dish during a meal – a simple request. Within their culture, she would have been expected to extend numerous compliments about the meal first and foremost. Only after being sufficiently gracious could the request be made.
Others might have been offended at her faux pas, but her family laughed at her Americanization of their common language. She laughed with them and then chose to continue using her very American words. Ahh, family dynamics…!
When Words Fail
I wish I could say I always choose my words wisely, but I do try. Recently, I failed miserably in response to a fractured conversation. I was speaking with someone who refused to listen to what I was saying and then reacted (badly!) to what he assumed I had said. I kept trying to explain what he was missing, but he became loud and animated – and then he lied.
After carefully and thoughtfully responding to his verbal assault for several minutes, words came out of my mouth that I am not at all proud of. With that, I felt my body start to lunge at him. That is something I didn’t even know I was capable of! Fortunately, I immediately stepped back. I have a feeling that it triggered a reaction to all the verbal attacks I had experienced over time – not only his.
But I didn’t stop there. This person is someone I need to interact with multiple times a week. I let some time pass and, when we were alone, calmly and logically shared my experience of our interaction that day. I focused on what was said and what he had not heard.
I was very precise with the words I chose. They were not judgmental or inflammatory – they sought understanding and healing.
I continue to be wary of him, and I say that in a healthy way. I cannot trust anyone who is quick to react without the benefit of hearing all the relevant information. But we are once again able to exchange pleasantries when we meet, and that is enough.
A Thought
It is so easy to lose control of our words. Taking a pause helps. And if an interaction fractures, revisiting it calmly and wisely, carefully choosing our words, goes a long way to initiate healing.
The words we use are so very important. May your conversations be filled with the best of them.
Cathy, there are so many interesting threads in this piece. I agree with your therapist, words can be so harmful and can lead to violent behavior. I used to be overly direct in my communication. I know I have sometimes, wittingly and unwittingly, hurt people with sharper-than-necessary words. I've spent decades learning to speak in more peaceful ways. I know, I must slow down and be very conscious of the words I choose. Thank you for the reminder.
As always, Cathy, you bring such intriguing nuance to something most people take for granted or don't even notice at all. As writers, we are particularly attuned to words and all their layered meanings. I love finding the just-right word to convey a feeling, mood, or idea. As someone more clever than me pointed out, the word "spelling" contains the word "spell," and you can certainly cast many spells with words.
I also wanted to share that I just had a little epiphany of my own this morning having to do with the importance of the words we use. It's a long, mostly boring story, but I've been battling some chronic pain for the last decade or so. For the most part, I'm able to manage it to a virtually pain-free level, but every once in a while it rears it's ugly head, and I have to start the process of kind of rebalancing myself all over again.
What occurred to me this morning as your post and and the ideas from an excellent (and for me life-saving!) podcast (Tell Me About Your Pain) bounced around in my head is that the words I've chosen to respond to inquiries about how I'm doing are maybe not the most helpful ones I could use. When someone asks about my pain, I always say something like, "I'm working on it," or "I'm working through it" ... I almost always invoke the concept of work. But, if I were to follow the excellent advice of the podcast folks, I would choose very different words. I would say, "I'm taking care of myself." That's a completely different vibe, and in this instance the vibe really matters. In fact, the vibe is everything. I've been using this shift in wording to reframe how I think about where I am in the process, and it's already made a huge difference.
So - long story short - I'm still learning how important word choice is, not only when we speak to others, but also - maybe most importantly - when we speak to ourselves. Thanks for helping me put the pieces together! xo