It’s the sweet spot, somewhere between 20,000 and 35,000 words. It’s the average adult’s vocabulary. For people who read widely and write with intention, that number climbs higher. 40,000 or even 50,000. And if you’re someone who keeps searching for just the right word, the one that truly fits, instead of an easier one — if you rewrite a sentence until it actually means what you are feeling — yours is probably higher than you think.

That? It really does matter.

And I want to tell you why.

Every new word you learn is a new way of seeing. It opens your eyes to a genuine expansion of what you’re capable of noticing in your community and the world. When you first encountered and read the word liminal, you didn’t just file it away. Instead you looked it up. Now, suddenly you had language for that trembling, in-between space that people stand in all the time, between jobs, relationships and who they were and who they’re growing into. And once you could name it? You could see it. Then the magic happened; you could meet people right there, feeling what they did.

That’s the real gift of a growing vocabulary. You are more present to others.

Because words carry ideas the same way Amazon boxes carry merchandise, delivering it right to your door. When researchers first developed the language around adverse childhood experiences — ACEs — they didn’t create the pain. It was already there. But the shared language? It gave families, clinicians, and neighbors something to hold together. New words open new conversations. New conversations? They can change lives.

It’s not just on the grand scale, because it happens on a smaller scale too. The word sonder is the quiet realization that every stranger around you is living a life just as layered and vivid as your own. Just watch what changes in you the next time you’re in a crowded waiting room. The word itself doesn’t manufacture empathy. But it does make it more accessible, and more practiced. Then, you’re ready when someone needs empathy from you.

Here’s the encouraging part: vocabulary is one of the few things that keeps growing well into our sixties and beyond. Our brains don’t close this door. Researchers consistently find that people who keep reading, keep writing, and keep putting themselves in rooms with different thinkers continue expanding their language — and therefore their capacity — for decades. You are not too old. You are not too set in your ways. You are, right now, exactly positioned to learn something new.

So do it.

Lean into it.

Read things that stretch you. When a word stops you? Stop. Write it down. Look it up. Use it badly, once. Then try again. Say it better. Use it out loud over and over again. Until it fits. When it does? You’ll know.

Because those in your life, your neighbors, your coworkers, your family members, they are all carrying things they don’t yet have words for. Heavy things. Tender things. Things they’ve tried to explain and couldn’t quite get out. I know.

Dad and I talked about this last night. I described what I was looking for and instead of one word, he gave me two. Similar in some ways, different in exactly the ways that mattered.

Sometimes what you need isn’t a program or a policy or a perfect plan.

Sometimes it’s the right word. And you show up, brave enough to actually use it.

Be that person.

You’re closer than you think.

Because the word you have inside you?

It’s exactly the right one for someone else.