When a Joke Becomes a Wound

“Big mouth.”“Why is your mouth big like that?”“Mouth man.”Maybe, to the people saying those things, they were just jokes. Something to laugh about and forget before the next conversation.I didn't forget.I was naturally jovial. I liked talking to people, laughing, moving around, just being myself. I was also doing well academically. But somewhere around JSS3, the jokes about my appearance stopped feeling like jokes.At first, I tried to act like I didn't care.That became harder when I kept hearing the same things over and over again. There is something about repetition. A word can start as somebody else's opinion and, after hearing it enough times, quietly become the way you see yourself.I became conscious of my appearance. I started wondering how people looked at me. I became less confident. The person who used to enjoy being around people slowly became withdrawn.It got to a point where I remember asking my parents if I would ever go back to school.That question still says a lot about how badly things had affected me.I was a student who was doing well academically, yet I was becoming afraid of the same place where I was supposed to learn, grow and make friends.And the hardest part?I didn't tell anyone.I kept it to myself because I wasn't convinced anyone would truly understand. I was also afraid of what might happen after I opened up. What if someone listened today and laughed about it tomorrow? What if the thing I was already struggling with became another joke?I had seen what people's words could do. I didn't know who was safe enough to hear mine.Years later, I understand better why people encourage others to talk about their mental health.Speaking can help.Sometimes, someone saying, “I went through this too,” is enough to make another person feel less strange, less alone. Someone who has been called weak, lazy, dramatic or unserious for so long may finally realise that struggling does not make them those things. But here I am sha😊Social media has made that kind of connection much easier.A TikTok story, an X post or an honest Instagram caption can reach people you will probably never meet. Someone in Nigeria can read the experience of a stranger thousands of kilometres away and suddenly realise, “So I'm not the only one.”That matters.But there is another side we don't talk about enough.What happens when vulnerability meets the wrong audience?The same internet that can make someone feel understood can also turn their pain into entertainment. A person can tell the truth about their worst season and watch strangers laugh in the comments. Someone can share something deeply personal, only for another person to screenshot it, repost it or use it against them later.And the internet has a long memory.Someone may share their darkest experience at seventeen and still have people finding that story years later, even after they have grown beyond it.So I don't think the answer is simply, “Everyone should speak up.”There is a difference between being heard and being exposed.People should be allowed to decide when they are ready. They should be able to choose what they want to share, how much they want to share and, perhaps most importantly, who deserves to hear it.For one person, that might be social media.For another, it might be a trusted friend.For someone else, it might be a counsellor.And sometimes, a person may not be ready to tell anybody yet.That doesn't automatically mean they are weak.Privacy is not the same thing as silence born out of cowardice.For me, finding myself again took time. When I got to university, something gradually changed. I became more confident. I started becoming bold again. Little by little, I began recognising the jovial person I had been before JSS3.I realised that what happened to me had left a mark, but it didn't have to become my identity.Looking back, there is something I understand now that I didn't understand as a child.Words can be almost weightless in the mouth of the person saying them and incredibly heavy in the life of the person receiving them.Someone can laugh when you mock them and still go home hurting.Someone can look completely fine and still be carrying something they haven't told anybody.That is why lived experiences matter.We need people who are willing to speak. Their stories can challenge stigma, help others understand what they cannot see and give courage to people who have been suffering quietly.But we also need people who know how to listen.Because telling people to “speak up” means very little if the moment they finally do, we laugh at them, judge them, expose them, share their story without permission or turn their vulnerability into ammunition.The goal should not simply be to get more people talking.It should be to build a world where people feel safe enough to talk when they are ready.Where “I'm not okay” does not immediately become a joke.Where someone's worst season is not used to define their entire life.Where choosing not to share everything is also respected.I know what it feels like to keep something inside because you are afraid of what people might do with your honesty.So yes, I believe real voices can create real change.But perhaps there is a question we should ask before telling people to use those voices:Have we made the world safe enough for them to speak?Because sometimes, silence does not mean a person has nothing to say.Sometimes, they are simply still looking for someone they can trust with the truth.

Other insights from Sammy Góld

Contributor Points

Points-to-Coupons

Referral Earning