If We Don’t Transform Our Pain, We Will Most Assuredly Transmit it

These wise words were once written by Richard Rohr, and I believe them to be true.

Something happened a few weeks ago at a tennis clinic, and it brought up a lot for me. I shared about it on my social media outlets, and received a ton of messages and feedback from other women. It really got me thinking about how we need to share our stories; to inspire, encourage, and support one another.

I took up tennis last year as a way to do something fun. Most of what I participate in has deadlines, goals, or is very outcome driven. Tennis became something I could do that didn’t involve much pressure. I had no idea how to play but immediately felt at ease chasing that little yellow ball around the court. It doesn’t involve taking care of anything or anyone or checking any boxes. It is low commitment and something I could easily join in on once or twice a week that gives my body and brain a much needed release from my normal activities. As I said, it’s fun!

A few weeks ago I attended a tennis clinic with a group of others (both male and female), and we began a doubles drill. I teamed up with female partner and hit a good overhead shot to return the ball to the other side of the court. She then exclaimed “nice shot! It helps that you are so tall to get those high balls.”

I smiled, and thought yea, she’s probably right. It doesn’t hurt to be 5’9 sometimes.

But then the male player who was standing off to the side began to chime in.

“Yes, she is tall. She is very nice legs too.”

I slowly felt myself start to shrink inside.

Then, he continued. “Very nice, long, beauuuuuutiful legs.”

I froze.

In just a few seconds, my mind raced back to other experiences in the past where I felt small and cornered:

Like that time a chiropractor pulled my pants down too low to “check” my lumbar spine.

Or the time a male trainer commented about my breast size during a bench press exercise in a cross fit class.

Both of those instances I said nothing. I carried the weight of their inappropriate words with me. I lost sleep, felt sick to my stomach, angry and sad. I later transmitted that pain and confusion out on my husband and children.

But this time, I didn’t stay silent.

I didn’t retreat, and I didn’t blow up emotionally either.

I stood my ground, and confidently said “that comment is unwelcomed and inappropriate. We are here to play tennis.”

Later that evening, I shared what happened with my husband and children. I really wanted to use it as an opportunity to teach my girls what to do when a boy/man says something inappropriate like that to them. And I wanted to train my son in understanding how his comments can be appropriate or inappropriate based on intent and tone.

I walked them through the situation. I told them what I said. I also told them about the other women who stood up for me too; the other women who chimed in and had my back about how inappropriate and disrespectful that comment was.

They couldn’t believe it. “Was he upset with you?” they asked. “Did he think you were being mean to him?” they wondered.

I told them my responsibility was not to manage how he felt about my response. It was to respond with confidence and clarity. I told them we can be strong and set limits, and also be the girl that helps other girls stand up for herself. I even used the illustration of tossing a ball back and forth.

I said “when a man says something inappropriate to me, it’s like he tosses a ball to me. I can choose to hold it and carry it around all day and try to figure out what to do with it. I can let it bug me and weigh me down and bring it to meal time and bed. Or, I can catch the ball, acknowledge that it’s not mine to carry, and toss the discomfort back onto him. Their words and their inappropriate behavior is theirs to carry with them.”

But there’s more to it. And this is what I really wanted to reiterate to my girls, a piece that I think sometimes we miss as we work to raise strong, confident young women. Something it has taken me years to unpack and understand.

We can set limits, but we don’t have to grow hard or guarded in the process.

You see, there are some boys and men that are icky. They are inappropriate in tone and language and behavior. They weren’t taught how to honor and respect women and may never be able to do so. They view and treat women as objects.

But not all boys and men are this way.

And I wanted my girls to hear that. There are boys who are respectful and kind. They want to protect, help encourage, and serve. Boys like I hope my son is learning to be.

We went on to role play different comments or compliments that may be said, and the importance of delivery, tone and body language. I reminded them that they would know it’s inappropriate when it makes them feel icky inside. That the Holy Spirit will nudge them to speak up and will give them the words and boldness to do so. But I also reminded them that and any icky feeling isn’t their fault. They can always reject a comment and “toss it back onto them” and then they can come home and talk to mommy and daddy so that the ickiness doesn’t stay inside.

I later spoke with my husband about how comments like the one the man at tennis made doesn’t just stay on the courts.

You see in the past, I allowed inappropriate comments like that one to consume me. Over time, they would eat me up and in an attempt to protect myself from them happening again, I would grow overly critical and defensive. But that hardness of heart doesn’t stay isolated. I can see in my past seasons where I would allow it to impact how I extended affection towards my kids, or intimacy with my husband.

Today looks a lot different. I don’t over react or under react in fear. I have learned to assertively communicate (see freebie below!) and trust that the Holy Spirit with lead me. Some circumstances warrant that I speak up and say “I am not carrying that with me.” And in others, I have learned to accept a kind compliment or word of encouragement from a man because not all men are the same.

The Lord has been kind in showing me that I can remain vulnerable and soft, I don’t have to shut down or be defensive. I am safe– not because I always have the right words at just the right moment. But because He is my refuge, my safety, my strength in times of trouble (psalm 46:1).

You no longer have to carry the hurts of your past with you into the future, and you don’t have to live defensively in fear of others. Now might be the perfect time to revisit my book Loyal to a Fault. Learn to set healthy boundaries, assertively communicate, and take responsibility for what is yours in your relationships while learning to set down all that isn’t.