the other 'f word' in my life.

*I’m going to use double dare swears in this post. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.*

I have a tumultuous relationship with words.  At times, they’re my best companions; in certain instances words fail me miserably.  When my chosen medium of expression decides to thwart me, its in an instance of frustration, fear or anger.

I’m talking about swearing.
Ok, more specifically about my relationship with the F word (not fat, we’ve already covered that.)

F--k. There is nothing more satisfying than letting the f bombs fly in a moment of anger.

Poor Queen Esther, she’s privy to most of my worst swearing offenses. The merge onto the Dan Ryan from 55…? Forget it, I pretty much sound like an uncensored Eminem/ Lil Wayne mash-up.  I know it’s trashy, I know it’s not polite; but there are few things more satisfying than a strategically placed f--k.  [I will not entertain the conversation on intelligence here. I get it, I’m a smart girl who can think of a million other ways to express frustration. I have, and 'fudge', 'frick', and 'oh eff' just  fall miserably flat.]

If it’s not in the car, it’s when I lose something, drop something or am just generally in a state of ‘hot mess’ [that’s a technical term.] C’mon- calling my lap top a ‘little f—ker’ is so much more satisfying than saying ‘sucker’.

Apparently, its also in poor taste to call your friends 'f—ker' or to tell them to 'f—k off'?  Relax Molly manners, I might be trashy, but  I’m kidding.

This shit is so embarrassing.

I’m ashamed that I sound like an uneducated, uncreative NASCAR fan when I talk like that.

I’m ashamed that I can really make people feel uncomfortable when I start spouting off four letter words.

I’m ashamed that in moments of anger, I lose control and all I can do is yell “f—k!” to keep from backhanding someone.

Honestly, I think the shame comes from my perception of other people’s perceptions.  Short of calling a four year old a 'motherf—ker', [seriously almost happened this summer at the YMCA]. I don’t think my language is really keeping anyone up at night.  It’s a matter of using discretion of course, but also; freeing myself from the mental prison of pining after acceptance and  fretting over other people's judgments.

Honestly, fuck that, it is No Shame November, after all.

No Shame November is the brainchild of the fabulous Kathleen Leahy [find her here].