The use of foul language never left the safety of my mind till I began the process of divorce. I actually only thought those words, and sometimes I would say them under my breath, when I was alone and truly angry. I said “fuck”.
Actually, I really liked saying it. I’m in my mid thirties, discovering that saying swear words is fun! For whatever reason, expressing myself with a swear word is… enough. A word that can actually accurately describe my true deep loathsome feelings about something, it has to be a good thing.
Recently I learned that if you put a positive outlook to something, it changes it. For example, I was teaching my niece about the pain of weightlifting and cardio. It hurts and our minds say, hurt = bad, but when you decide that that kind of pain = good, then working out is changed for you. You begin to think of it as awesome and exciting and you can get pumped up about it.
I put a positive to my swearing. I’m OK with it. I don’t swear all of the time, since I like using the English language and all its wealth of words, however, swearing does not hold a bad or wrong meaning to me any longer.
To each, her own, and I’ll keep using my fabulous swear words, when I feel like it.