It’s Okay to Swear…Sort Of

It’s 4 a.m. and I am awake again. As I replay the events of the past few days, I chide myself for having once again broken our ‘no swearing’ rule. Sometimes it’s as though I just can’t help myself. There’s nothing quite like dropping the f bomb to release tension or frustration.

At some point or other, most of us have let a curse word or two escape our lips in mixed company. I’m usually pretty good at keeping profanity to a minimum, unless I’m behind the wheel of my car or just having one of those days where everything and everyone seems to be conspiring to annoy me.

My current expletive of choice is ‘bloody hell’. And I don’t have to be in the car to let that one slip. It’s my go-to, getting impatient, are you effing kidding me expression. It’s not ‘bad’ per say, but it’s not exactly classy, either. And it upsets my daughter. In fact, I hate to admit it, but it’s probably one of the tamer swear words I use when I’m running out of patience.

And when the ringing in my ears is particularly loud and that I spent half the night worrying about the apocalypse, I’m pretty short on patience.

When Coco was little, I promised myself I would clean up my language. This was easy enough to do when she was a sweet, giggly baby who, for the most part, didn’t refuse to eat, get dressed, get out of bed in the morning and basically rebel against my every wish.

No so, anymore. She is a strong-minded, independent kid who walks to the beat of her own drum. These are qualities that will serve her well in life, but they don’t make her any easier to parent. So, every once in a while, I lose my proverbial shit and swear under my breath…or out loud.

I know…Breathe. I should need to learn to be calm, level headed and patient. I’m still working on that. 

Have you seen the movie Monsters University? (I watch a lot of kids’ movies…it’s par for the course when you have little people in your life.) Remember the scene when Sulley, Mike and the Oozma Kappa monsters are tiptoeing through the library to get their flag and Sulley is losing it because they just aren’t moving fast enough?  I feel Sulley’s pain.

So, when I get super frustrated, stub a toe or get cut-off by a bad driver, I drop a bloody hell, or the f bomb. And Coco calls me out. And then I feel like shit about it.  Er, I mean I feel bad about it. Ha! I feel bad about not being a good role model, about not being patient enough and well, because I was raised to feel good amount of guilt about most things.  (I’ll save my thoughts on guilt for another post.)

Let’s face it, swearing is super effective in communicating how strongly you feel about something. Heck, other words just don’t have that power. When I was a kid, children were punished for swearing and they quickly learned just how powerful curse words are. I watched a classmate have his mouth washed out with soap after telling a teacher to piss off. As he choked back tears and retched I decided that the punishment was not worth the satisfaction of having told the guy off. No one dared swear in that teacher’s presence or disobey him again. It was a hell of a deterrent. 

Thankfully, I think I can say with confidence that today’s parents and teachers don’t resort to such extreme measures to keep their kids’ language clean. That said, I’ve seen more than a swear jar in family homes and given my fair share of ‘lectures’ on the subject. I know, that’s a classic display of ‘do as I say, not as I do’.

My daughter kicks the chair she bumped into and says, “Stupid chair!” My response? “The chair is not stupid. Stupid means not smart. Use your words. What is it about the chair that is making you so mad? Maybe you’re frustrated you bumped into the chair you left in the middle of the room?” Ugh… Just writing it down makes me want to roll my eyes. No wonder my daughter is less than impressed when I gently suggest she use ‘better’, more accurate words.

The next day she drops the f bomb after I let it slip in the car on the way to school. I know it’s my fault. Still, I really don’t want her using the f word. Even though I do. It’s too crass. And she’s only 8 years old!

Me: “Sweetie, please don’t use that word. You’re smart and sophisticated. Swearing is not classy.” 

Coco: “You swear.” 

Me: “I know. I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” or if I’m in a crappy mood, “I’m a grown up. When you are an adult you can say whatever the hell you want, until then, watch your language!” (Not winning any parenting awards for that one.)

Turns out I’m dead wrong about that whole ‘swearing is not classy’ thing. I’m not advocating that you or your kid(s) be encouraged to swear but I was happy to learn that swearing is not the domain of the lesser educated or less sophisticated. According to psychologist Timothy Jay, who’s been studying and writing about cursing for over 40 years, people with larger vocabularies can actually generate more swear words than people with smaller ones. 

Dropping the f-bomb or whatever curse word you favor, very efficiently tells others that you’re angry, upset, excited, surprised or aroused—and the intensity of that state. It’s also effective in helping with pain management. Seriously. Studies show that swearing can increase your pain tolerance. And that saying real swear words vs fake ones is 33% more effective in decreasing pain.

Apparently, swearing increases your heart rate and triggers the fight-or-flight response, which in turn increases your pain tolerance by making you feel more aggressive. So, it goes to follow that it’s okay to swear, right? Well, not quite.  Swearing may not only be the domain of the lesser educated, but it’s still perceived by many as such. We assume, as I infer, when I tell my daughter to use better words, that people swear because they lack the vocabulary to use a more suitable expression. 

So, before you drop the f bomb in front of your boss or at your next PTA meeting, read the room. And if you’re not sure this crowd is ready for some profanity, try to reign it in. 

“I let my kids swear,” Michelle L., a mom of two, told me after her 8-year old son told my daughter he couldn’t ride his bike because it was ‘fucked up’. “If the words aren’t taboo, then they lose their power.” I beg to differ. Coco was surprised and put off by the way her son spoke. “That boy is so rude,” she said to me later. “He thinks saying bad words makes him sound cool.” 

Exactly. The f word may have little impact in their home, but in mine and in many other places, using it is seen as inappropriate.  And, as I like to remind her, “If you start saying the f word at home around me and your dad, pretty soon you’ll be saying it around your friends. Then they’ll go home and drop the f bomb and their parents are going to say, “I don’t want to hear you say that word!” and they’ll answer, “Coco says it all the time.” And then those kids won’t be allowed to hang out with you anymore.” I don’t necessarily think their reactions would be that extreme, but you never know.

So, in the spirit of setting a good example, I’ve been trying to clean up my language. The swear jar failed. So, did giving my daughter a dollar for every cuss I utter. Now, I’m trying a new approach and incorporating a few new, G-rated words to my repertoire. (Currently those are fudge, crap, snap and shoot.) They may not help with dulling the pain when I slam a door on my hand, but they’re less likely to upset the people in my life. 

Do you swear? What’s your swear word of choice? If you don’t, may I ask why? Is it simply a question of habit or choice?  If you have children, do you ‘let’ them swear?