...but words will never hurt me?

Maya Angelou is an incredibly smart woman, so it pains me to have to say that she is almost completely wrong.
I remember the first time that someone told me I was annoying. I was in the 7th grade. I have always been a weird kid, in the sense that I didn't know limits when it came to socializing. For example, I tend to overshare, because I don't know when an acceptable time to stop is, and when I get really excited, I tell stories that don't have points, or I repeat stories 4 or 5 times.
Anyway, in my 7th grade art class, I sat at a table with about 5 other people. I was really excited to tell my "friends" about a practical joke I played on one of my classmates. I had just started my story when the girl that sat next to me (whose name I have long since forgotten) rolled her eyes, and said "Yeah, you've already told us this story. It's pretty annoying." I remember turning bright red, feeling the excited smile fade off of my face, and staying quiet for the rest of the class.
I remember the first time I got rejected. I was 14, and I had a huge crush on one of my closest friends. I asked him to go to homecoming with me, as my date. He thought about it for a second, and said, "I'll think about it." While he never gave me a definitive "yes or no," when my best friend asked him what he was going to say, he told her, "I think Breana is stupid and annoying. I'm going to tell her no, because I HATE her."
Finally, I remember the first time I was told something negative about my body by someone who I cared about. I went to Forever 21, sometime after my high school graduation, and found a dress that I fell in love with. I tried it on, admired how I looked in it, and sent a picture to my boyfriend-at-the-time to get his opinion. His response was, "That dress makes your body look even more like an onion. It's not good." Now, this boyfriend was absolutely terrible to me in the 4 years that we dated, but that comment? My already low self esteem sunk even lower, and I remember my sadness as I hung the dress back up, and the disgust  I felt when I looked at myself in the mirror lasted for years.

I'm not writing about these things to make you pity me. Rather, I'm writing these things to back up my statement that Maya Angelou is wrong. Yes, it's hard to forget how people made us feel (how else can you explain not liking someone, but not remembering what they've done to you?), but if something is said or done to you that impacts you as a person, you won't forget those things either. People can be cruel, and the things that they say and do can scar you for life, and some of the things that people say, you'll never be able to forget.