As I’ve grown older, I’ve embraced various quirks about myself. For instance, I prefer my coffee at room temperature and have no love for smoothies or kale. Finding jeans that fit my posterior is a challenge, and turtlenecks? They make me look like I’m lacking a neck entirely. I can be impatient, dramatic, and a bit edgy. And yes, I have a penchant for colorful language that could rival any tattooed biker on a Harley.
In simpler terms, I frequently use strong language—loudly and unapologetically.
Some might label my choice of words as vulgar or undignified. But honestly? I couldn’t care less. My reservoir of concern for others’ opinions has run dry. Thankfully, my creativity in expressing my indifference is overflowing.
Swearing is an integral part of who I am. Asking me to curb my cursing is akin to requesting that I stop enjoying coffee or wearing leggings as everyday attire. It’s simply not happening, so let’s just drop it.
I’m intelligent and compassionate. I have a sense of humor, and I’m forgiving. I also have a mouth that can unleash some serious expletives, and I refuse to apologize for it.
And really, why should you be bothered by my swearing? Unless I’m directing insults at you, it’s not harmful. Sometimes, a situation is so disastrous that only a well-placed “damn it” or a witty insult like “butt nugget” will suffice. Those milquetoast alternatives simply don’t cut it. In truly chaotic moments, a few choice words can be incredibly liberating—whether it’s after a driver in a flashy car cuts me off or when someone mistakes my non-pregnant belly for a baby bump. Expressing my frustration through swearing is one of the best stress relievers I have. While some people knit to unwind, I choose to let out a good curse.
Moreover, swearing can be cathartic and, believe it or not, creative. Contrary to popular belief, studies actually show that it’s a sign of intelligence. Understanding the various ways to express annoyance, like using “jerk” in multiple forms, takes a certain level of smarts. I mean, I can use “freaking” as a noun, verb, and adjective all in one breath!
And no, I’m not damaging my kids by letting them hear me curse. Research indicates that they learn when and where it’s appropriate. I’m not swearing during school events or at church.
The reality is that some people curse, and others don’t. If swearing isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. Just as some enjoy jazz while others prefer rock, I simply can’t stand jazz and choose to forgo meat. I don’t judge those who enjoy a good burger while discussing their favorite musicians.
Recently, a friend sent me a delightful gift that encapsulated my sentiments perfectly. She labeled me “the ideal recipient” for a mug that reads, “I don’t spew profanities. I enunciate them like a freaking lady.” This mug has quickly become my favorite, even if I unwrapped it while lecturing my son about cutting back on his own cursing—a story for another day.
Life is tough enough without pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m a nearly 40-year-old woman who has no interest in kale, dislikes yoga, and revels in saying words like “damn” and “crap.” I’m not a bad person; I simply embrace who I am unapologetically. Life is too short, and swearing brings me a sense of relief.
In short, I’m a fierce individual who takes joy in expressing myself with colorful language. You might want to give it a shot yourself sometime.
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