I firmly believe that a well-placed F-bomb has its rightful spot in our culture. As a woman, I have every bit of access to phrases like “flippity-floppity” as any man out there.
My kids are familiar with a wide range of language, and I admit, a lot of those colorful words stem from my own mouth rather than their dad’s. Since they know the lingo, I’ve made it a point to teach them about the right times and places for certain expressions. For example, saying “Holy guacamole!” after accidentally dropping a spoon on your foot at home is just fine, but in front of Grandma? Not so much.
I absolutely do not teach my kids that boys can curse while girls need to “act like a lady.” Oh, hell no. That’s pure sexist nonsense. We all recognize that women possess exceptional linguistic skills, and we won’t be silenced by outdated ideas. I can bet that those so-called Victorian ladies who appeared demure were probably muttering some creative curses under their breath at their husbands.
Women have fought hard for equal rights, and being able to say “dingleberry” without feeling ashamed is part of that struggle.
Here are a few reasons why you won’t catch me talking like a “lady” anytime soon:
- Swearing is hilarious.
Words like “sugar booger,” “clusterduck,” and “butt nugget” are just too funny to resist. Seriously, try saying “sweet monkey muffins” without cracking a smile. - I trust those who swear.
Swearing moms, you are my tribe. I know where I stand with you, and I appreciate your honest, colorful take on life. - It adds a delightful emphasis.
Thank goodness for creations like Samuel L. Jackson reading Go the F*ck to Sleep. Because, really, kids, just GET THE F*CK TO SLEEP. - When you hurt yourself, you want to unleash some obscenities.
Nothing quite expresses the pain of stubbing your toe like exclaiming, “son of a banana peel!” - There’s science behind it.
A study I once read claimed that people who swear have larger vocabularies and are more linguistically mature than those who don’t. Absolutely! - You don’t get to dictate my language.
At the end of the day, being a “lady” doesn’t mean I have to censor myself from delightful phrases like “stupidhead” and “thunderbutt.”
That said, I can still be an adult when necessary. I promise not to drop F-bombs at the grocery store or during the PTA meeting. I’m a controlled user of naughty words, usually saving them for when it’s truly appropriate—like when I stub my toe.
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In summary, I refuse to conform to outdated expectations of how women should speak. Embracing colorful language is not just liberating; it’s also a sign of linguistic maturity. So, let’s celebrate our right to express ourselves without shame!