Parenting

Pardon My F*cking Language, But I’m Sweary AF And That Ain’t Gonna Change

by Christine Organ
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Photo Credit: Lolostock/Shutterstock

The older I get, the more I’ve come to accept certain things about myself. I like my coffee lukewarm, for instance, and I’m not a fan of smoothies or kale. I have an ass that makes it difficult to find jeans that fit, and turtlenecks and scarves make me look like I have no neck. I am impatient, dramatic, and edgy. Also, I’m a foul-mouthed swearer with a colorful lexicon that would put any tattooed, muscle-bound, Harley-riding biker to shame.

In other words, I say “fuck” — out loud and often.

Some people might say my foul mouth is uncouth, undignified, unintelligent, or unladylike. But you know what? I don’t give a damn. I’m fresh out of fucks. My bucket of fucks for others’ opinion is dry. Fortunately, my cup runneth over with creative ways to say IDGAF.

Swearing is quite simply who I am. Telling me to stop swearing would be like telling me to stop drinking coffee or wearing leggings as pants. That shit just ain’t gonna happen, so STFU.

I am smart and kind. I am funny, gentle, and forgiving. I also swear like a motherfucker and I’m making no apologies about it.

And what the fuck do you care if I do swear? If I’m not hurling insults at you, swearing isn’t hurtful or violent. And quite frankly, there are plenty of situations that are such shitastrophes that a “goshdarnit” or a “Jiminy Christmas” simply cannot get the job done. Those are pearl-clutcher words. They are annoying as hell. In true shitastrophes, you need a well-placed eff bomb and maybe even a few creative swear words like “shitgibbon” and “fucksticks” or a classic like “dammit all to hell.”

Few things are as cleansing as a long string of creative expletives after a douchebag driving a Camaro cuts you off on the highway or a twatwaffle in Old Navy asks about your due date (you’re not pregnant, thank you very fucking much). Even if it’s a general fuck this shit attitude about the clusterfuck of disasters in the news or the general shitshow that is parenting, swearing is an instant stress reliever for me. Some people knit. I cuss. We all make our choices.

Furthermore, swearing is cathartic and fun and fucking creative. And contrary to what some might think, swearing is actually a sign of intelligence. Science fucking says so. It takes smarts to know multiple variations of the word asshole (asshat, asswipe, assclown) and be able to use “fuck” as a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb. (Example: I fucking love to swear, motherfuckers, and it’s fucked up to think that I’m fucking up because I say “fuck” a lot.)

And no, I’m not screwing up my kids up if they hear me swear. Again science says so. They are learning that there is a time and a place for swearing. It’s not like I’m swearing at their school or church.

Look, some people swear, and some don’t. If you don’t want to swear, that’s fine. Just don’t swear. Some people like jazz and others hate it. Some people like Chinese food, while others prefer a burger and fries. Personally, I fucking hate jazz and I’m a vegetarian, so guess what? I don’t listen to John Coltrane and I don’t eat meat. I do not, however, sigh, clutch my pearls, or cover my kids’ ears in some dramatic fashion when I hear you chomping on a burger while you wax on about Miles Davis.

The other day, I got an unexpected package from a friend. Before she dropped it off, she said I was “the perfect recipient” for said gift. It was a mug that said “I don’t spew profanities. I enunciate them like a fucking lady.” This mug is, quite simply, my favorite. Never mind the fact that while I opened the gift, I was in the middle of lecturing my son about cutting back on his “shits” and “dammits,” but that’s a story for another day.

Life is hard enough as it is without trying to be anyone other than who we are. Me? I am a big-assed, nearly 40-year-old woman who hates kale, despises yoga, and loves to say “ass,” “shit,” “damn,” and “fuck.” I’m not a bad person. I’m just comfortable enough to say whatever the hell I want. Life is too fucking short, and swearing makes me feel better.

In other words, I’m a badass bitch who enunciates the fuck out of profanities and relishes the sweet joy that swearing brings to me. You should try it sometime.

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