They say words don’t hurt, but we all know that’s not true. Sticks and stones may break bones, but words? Words sink deep. They cling to us like shadows, resurfacing when we least expect them.

I once heard the phrase, “It takes 1000 attaboys to erase one ‘you’re a dumbass.’” At first, it sounded almost funny—a quirky exaggeration. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how painfully accurate it is.

Think about it. Someone can praise you a hundred times. You’re doing great. I’m proud of you. You nailed that. Those words make you smile for a moment. But then, out of nowhere, someone calls you stupid, useless, or not enough. And suddenly, all those attaboys scatter like leaves in the wind. That one insult echoes louder than every compliment combined.

Why? Because negative words carve deeper grooves. They tap into fear, shame, or insecurity that already lives inside us. And the truth is, most of us are already our own harshest critics. When someone throws in a cutting remark, it feels like confirmation of the cruel things we already whisper to ourselves.

But here’s the other truth: if it takes 1000 attaboys to erase one “you’re a dumbass,” then maybe we need to be more generous with our attaboys. With others—and with ourselves.

Tell your friend she’s brave for speaking up. Tell your coworker he crushed that presentation. Tell your partner you love the way they handled something small. And when you look in the mirror, remind yourself of the things you are doing right. Maybe you’re not perfect, but you’re showing up, learning, trying. That deserves recognition too.

Compliments aren’t fluff. They’re fuel. They’re little counterweights against the heaviness of the world.

Sometimes, the people around us (ourselves included) desperately need more of them just to balance out that one careless, cutting remark that lingers for years.

So today, I’m choosing to hand out attaboys. To others, and to myself. Because the truth is, it shouldn’t take 1000 to erase the sting of one insult. But until we live in a gentler world, maybe it does. And maybe that’s okay—because each attaboy is an act of love, and we could all use more of that.