To this day, I have no idea what we were arguing about but, in a moment, I was stripped down and exposed. “It’s not helpful right now to get sarcastic,” she said, and then continued, “You’re better than that, Natalie, more clever and kind.” I had been blindsided, completely unaware I was even being sarcastic. It had been a habit, a well-worn pattern for me when tension was high.
In the moment of our conflict, I felt threatened and afraid. But rather than acknowledge the fear (which requires way more vulnerability, thank you!) I chose a more dominating route: I picked up my sword and lashed out before my fear turned to helplessness. Obviously, this was not the first time I made this move.
Flashes of childhood moments when I felt powerless came to mind. Sarcasm was not foreign to me. I was drawn to this cunning form of combat – an effective way of protecting myself and demonstrating superiority at the same time. So, in the instant with my friend, I reached for what I knew and had used in order to survive. I rolled my eyes in disgust and secured myself, as if to say, “I’m above you and I refuse to be hurt by you.”
This approach had worked particularly well during my teenage years, providing me with a powerful surge of victory at times when I felt most powerless. When the art was perfected, humor was added to disguise the sarcasm, leaving people off-kilter because the sharp edge was laced with something genuinely funny, creating a razor-edged cut that secured the illusion of friendship but kept me safe.
I remember using this tactic when I was 16. I worked after school at a local caramel corn shop, and my boss confronted me about too liberally using one of the sweeteners rather than measuring it as I had been taught. I gave him a sharp but comical remark in return to deflect his reprimand. He smiled and commended my cleverness, only affirming my knack for deflecting opportunities for correction and guidance in the future.
Life became a game of hide-and-seek rather than candid communication, even with people in authority. I was aware, even then, that connection was lost with others and myself. Genuine feedback was rarely received. Conflict was never resolved. And my heart grew increasingly isolated and ambivalent. Around that time I remember reading Proverbs 12:18: “There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”
I thought about my dear friend’s words long after the argument was over. “You’re better than that, Natalie, more clever and kind.” No one had ever called me out, and then called me to something better. No one had ever ripped off the disguise and believed I could be better – “…the tongue of the wise brings healing.” I began to realize my careless remarks were cheap and revealed deeply held contempt and grief, a reflection of my unexamined heart.
It is always kindness that heals deeply held patterns.
Slowly, as anger and fear rise in me during conflict today, I seek to stay present and do the counterintuitive work of turning toward vulnerability instead of hiding. I refuse the enticing remarks in my head and seek honest listening and thoughtfulness. I seek to be patient with myself, dabbling with new forms of humor that do not bite or keep others distant. And, I am grateful for the kindness of a friend calling me to be a better version of who God made me to be.
Natalie Sum thrives when someone she knows has an “Ah-hah” moment, whether in a classroom, through an online class she’s created or just talking with a friend. Natalie has a Masters degree in Education and Bachelors degree in Social Work. She feels most alive cruising on her bike and relishing in God’s creation. Natalie lives in Schaumburg, a suburb of Chicago.
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“It is always kindness that heals deeply held patterns…” this phrase hit me hard as I read your powerful words this morning. It will stay with me and serve as a guide for conversation with a colleague with whom I long to be kind. Thank you for exposing my need and providing a way to heal.
So grateful these words provide a means for healing.
Thank you Natalie for your vulnerability in sharing your story. I am convicted…I do this without realizing I’m lashing out at others because I’m afraid of facing my fears of rejection; attempting to preserve or promote self with sarcastic remarks. There is a way that’s better. Thank you for helping me see my need and hope of healing.
So sweet to see your name pop up, Bonnie! And grateful God’s grace and truth was extended your way. Be kind to yourself as God surely is.
Natalie, your writing is stunning and has a way of speaking directly to my heart. Thank you for being so vulnerable and in doing so you helped me immensely. You brought awareness to my own ways of using sarcasm as a well sharpened weapon I wield often to protect my own hurting heart. I am so sorry that you had to learn to protect yourself when you were younger in this way but way to go in naming it and wanting better for yourself and those you love. I am also so thankful for your dear friend that spoke such beauty to you with love, kindness and grace.
Ditto, Laurie. I’m thankful for how God orchestrates just the right people at the right time in our life! So glad He brought awareness to you, as well.
You have always been an incredible gift from God to me. When you were my division leader, you coached me to be able to help leaders minister to hurting children . Decades later, you have inspired me that I am “better than that “. Truly Natalie, you are a gift from God I will always treasure. Thank you.
Thanks for your encouraging words. So grateful you’ve been inspired to be the BEST self God created for you to be.
This really hit home for me. I’m going to take your story seriously and incorporate this wisdom into my own life.
Thanks, Cynthia! Grateful God is whispering kind truth to your heart.
Natalie, you have written a beautiful, eloquent essay about yourself while doing exactly what your friend did. You have invited others, (me), to join you in putting down the sword of sarcasm, and you showed me how. You didn’t say what was wrong and leave me wondering how to disarm that weapon. Thank you!
You’re so welcome, Ruth. May we all sharpen each other with what God is teaching us.
Well done my friend!
Thanks, Anne!
Natalie,
Your writing is stunning. You are courageous and kind!
Love you girl…
Love your gusto in sharing your story!
Jean – Coming from you (as a stunning writer/artist yourself) this means a TON! Love you too!
Thank you for this Natalie, your honesty and kindness are a blessing. I know sarcasm as a defense all too well, grateful for the reminder to lay it down.
Thank you, Tracy. And thank you for this community to encourage each other!