taboo-laden, bubble-immersed love note from the Child.
Recently the Child told me a story.
It centered around her about overhearing 7th graders chatting during lunch and being shocked by the use of “the s-word and the f-word.”
I laughed (on the inside where it counts).
I couldn’t believe she was shocked (given the fact she’s my child).
In addition, even if she’d not been paying attention, my sartorial selections oft convey sentiments laden with salty as well.
Her horror at the taboo language baffled me until I considered the fact I may choose to use those words, but I employ them carefully and judiciously.
Taboo language provides release.
Research indicates swearing helps us manage or lessen pain. I’m not sure about that fact. I’m fairly certain not one expletive emerged from my mouth during the times I’ve been tattooed. Researchers also assert swearing activates our fight or flight response. This, again, is not something I’ve experienced.
For me the espousing of salty language serves as a release valve. It provides a verbal reset which facilitates a pause, breathe, re-approach to stressful situations. This release results in both renewed patience and lessened frustration. Win. F*ckingWin.
Taboo words help us feel bad-ass.
Lately I’ve felt less like a capable adult and more like newborn fawn. Well placed expletives, whether said out loud or inside my head, have aided me in feeling competent and in control (even though I’m aware control is an illusion). Properly used profanities create the sense life is not happening *to* me and serve as a reminder I’m not passive. What to another person may sound vulgar this woman employs as a reminder-to-self she’s powerful, strong and ready seek out new doors.
Salty selections provide emphasis.
I’ve wondered if people who don’t know me offline imagine I swear like a trucker 24/7. I do not. In fact, if we don’t know each other well or interact in certain types of situations, you might be hard-pressed to envision me uttering any words of the four letter variety.
I use taboo language selectively and never accidentally.
I’ve never uttered an inappropriate expletive and wished I could take it back. When I select the salty language it’s a conscious choice. I think, I choose my words, I speak. Picking profanity is done for emphasis. To highlight delight. To stress frustration. To signify physical or emotional pain.
I use these words judiciously because, as with anything in life, if done too frequently the efficacy diminishes. Too much taboo-speak is akin to repeatedly honking horn or, for those who recall them, car (theft) alarms. When heard too often we begin to not hear them at all.
Cussing offers connection.
Or, more aptly put, I harness taboo words and facilitate others using them with me for connection.
The first time the Child took advantage of time in The Bubble she entered, giggled and shouted: You’re fucking awesome!!
The Child grasps the power of these words. She rarely uses them and only to emphasize positive feelings in the biggest way she knows how. She gets it. In a sense she views these words as our Love Language. Researchers deem this contextually bound swearing etiquette here we refer to it as we Life in the Bubble.
I’m aware many disagree with the way I choose to speak (and mother).
I’m confident there are those who believe profanity indicates a poverty of vocabulary.
(Although reportedly a voluminous taboo lexicon is an indicator of healthy verbal abilities.)
I’m unapologetic about the fact I consciously choose to speak this way and profoundly believe in the power of the profane.
- Are you turned off by the taboo or do you choose to employ the expletives in a powerful, personal way?