Someone I’ve never met insulted me last week; an ignorant, rude stranger who chose to throw a childish insult about my looks at me via the Internet.

This person wasn’t even brave enough to use their own name.

There’s a word for that; actually there are a lot of words for that, but the lovely editor here at the Oxford Mail will need to remove most of them, so to make his job a little easier, I’ll choose... ‘spineless.’ To be honest though, it’s a little disappointing to be reminded that there are people who read this paper who would rather spend their time putting others down than actually doing some good.

I can’t remember exactly how old I was when I realised that the sheer act of just going out of your way to either compliment someone, or let them know you’re proud of them, was one of the most powerful skills we, the human race, are blessed with. But I can remember an awful moment when I realised the phrase ‘sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but names will never hurt me’ wasn’t entirely true.

I was no older than eight at the time, but out of all of my school memories, this one is one of the earliest and most vivid.

The incident involved a bunch of my classmates picking on a kid called Michael. He was quiet and I guess what would have been called a little ‘geeky’ back in those days. Mind you, looking back at the photos, we were all pretty geeky, but that is the beauty of being a child. You’re still growing into the adult you’ll be.

Back to Mike, I remember being beside the water fountain when I noticed he was being given a hard time by some boys.

Shamefully I also remember I didn’t speak up or go to his rescue. I just kept my distance.

I recall he ran off trying to escape them and ended up trapped in the boys’ loos. The kids teased him then ran off laughing.

I waited around to see if Mike would reappear, but then after a while started to get concerned and plucked up my courage to go into the ‘unknown territory’ of the toilets.

I can still remember cautiously walking around the wall at the front to hear him sobbing his heart out. I also remember how guilty I felt for any mean word I’d ever said to him. Eventually he appeared and I tried to make him feel better.

I can still see his little face and to this day remember that being the moment I learnt just how powerful words can be.

I don’t know about you, but given a choice between being a decent person but looking downright average, unattractive or geeky on the outside, or being beautiful on the outside and rotten to the core on the inside, I know which I’d prefer to be.