Warning: This title is the last time I shall be censoring— ever! 🤪 Happy reading! 👋
“That finger is a bad word!”
One day after school, back in 1st or 2nd grade, my best friend Lexi and I met on the bus as we always did. That day, however, Lexi had a cut on the side of her middle finger. She was wincing in pain, not being able to decide what was worse: her neighboring fingers bumping into the cut or the stretch of moving those same fingers away. “It hurts no matter how I move it!”
Being the problem-solver I was, I had an obvious solution and instructed her to follow my direction immediately. She needed to separate that finger from the pack. I recommended she cradle her middle finger nail-side-up. This seemed to calm her down. Almost immediately, the few-years-older kid in the seat across from us warned us, “That’s a bad word.” I snapped my head toward them, brow furrowed. “What?” The child defensively clarified, “That finger is a bad word— when you have it by itself.”
Okay, you gotta know one thing before I continue: bad words were a huge thing in my house. I wasn’t even allowed to say “crap” or “crud,” so when some kids tricked me into saying crud in 4th grade, (to quote Spongebob) I only cried for 20 minutes (which I later found out Giselle sang in Disney’s Enchanted— how DARE she??). It’s not like my parents or extended family members never used curse words. My mom was notorious for saying “shit” in frustration, which my sister innocently imitated when she dropped her Capri Sun while my grandmother was watching us. My grandma really gave me a clear picture of her loving nature that day when she promptly swooped my sister up, no older than 6 or 7, and brought her over to the sink, about to pump foaming hand soap into her mouth. I still remember my sister’s screams of terror and my shrieks of “STOOOOOP.” Needless to say, I grew up keen to avoid curse words in case there was ever an old person around who felt entitled to inflict me with pain or discomfort.
After some time of making sure I didn’t say any of the poop-related bad words I knew up to that point on that bus, I was certain I knew the difference between a finger and a word. I politely told that 4th grader to shove it and us gals continued cradling our fingers until we reached out stops.
Later that day, while holding onto the front of my mom’s moving Walmart cart, I decided to ask her. With the finger in question pointing up at her solo, I practically yelled, “IS THIS BAD??” She reacted, disappointingly, in complete shock. She let me know that this kid was correct— it was a bad word. I hated being wrong, especially about this. It didn’t make sense and now I had such a feeling of guilt for communicating this bad “word.”
Learning New Language
In the coming years, this straight-A gal would learn just how much she didn’t know. I had no clue whatsoever how babies were made (more on that in another post), absolutely no clue what many slang terms meant, and I didn’t know any curse words. Why were my parents keeping me so much in the dark? After my embarrassing Walmart incident, I was determined to learn all the curse words I could to avoid further humiliation.
Throughout the years, I kept a mental dictionary of these words. They varied in meaning depending on the trending words of the time. Hilariously, some of my friends in high school started saying “fuck” a whole lot more, and this was actually scary to me. I didn’t want to join this. I actively avoided cursing. Even when songs had curse words, I would completely stop singing. I don’t know when I made the turn. Maybe, college literally was a “yolo” realization time for me. I got my first tattoo (“jesus” on my left arm), I realized I was much more than just heteroflexible, and I also decided I should try cursing.
When I began cursing— using “shit” as an exclamatory or “shitty” as an adjective, and using “fucking” as an adverb to add passion to any sentence— I realized that curse words were just words with too much power. It reminded me of the way that wizarding people would avoid saying Voldemort’s name out loud.
“Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.” —Dumbledore
In the last year, both my father and father-in-law have voiced their concern with Taylor Swift’s increased use of swear words in her music. My dad was shook by the “fuck the patriarchy!” lyric (which is used in a specific context) in the 10-minute song “All Too Well” during the Eras Tour, saying that children are at the show and it isn’t appropriate to curse in front of them.
I have two things to say to this sentiment (that is not reserved only for my dad, but lots of people! Love ya dad!). First off, Taylor can say what she wants. Second, parents can set the rules for their own children only. Third, I am fine with swearing.
Yeah, FUCK the Patriarchy!
As you can see by this helpful graphic Zach found on Reddit, Taylor Swift’s curse count has definitely been rising over the years, with her latest album greatly surpassing the number of curse words in the albums that came before it. I would also say that The Tortured Poet’s Department is perhaps the most emotionally charged and heartbreakingly vulnerable of her albums— an album truly made for the fan of Taylor Swift— and I don’t think it having the most curse words is just a “sign of the times.”
There are plenty of people out there in our everyday lives who use curse words in an unintelligent, non-poetic way. Taylor Swift is an artist whose lyrics are vulnerable and very honestly portray her innermost feelings. I believe these passionate words add something other words can’t. That’s why the censored versions kinda piss me off. I still laugh when I hear “circus acrobat” in the clean version of Swift’s song “Karma.” Just say “fucking acrobat” because that’s what you want to say. And circus acrobat? What other kind are there??
An artist may choose to add a curse word to their work to compliment the rhythmic nature or stay in the rhyme scheme. I would say Taylor’s song “Down Bad” is like this, where “fuck it if I can’t have him” is so rhythmic and also adds to the assonance (poetry device)— the repeated “uh” sounding words. I would be fuming if they tried to make a clean version.
“Fuck it if I can’t have us.
I might just not get up, I might stay
Down bad.”
Hell, We All Cuss…
Some people may go overboard with it, but everyone’s definitions of “overboard” can differ. Maybe certain words (shit, damn, ass) are considered okay for some while others (bitch, fuck) are considered overboard if used at all. I think using or hearing a word more often can help desensitize those who grew up with tight reigns on language, but overuse can take away all the meaning. Conversationally, the slight shock of certain words is sometimes the punchline or even the sucker-punch. I curse, obviously, and the curse word jokes I make in conservative crowds KILL and I am proud of that. I do really have to get the vibe of the crowd and sometimes… I am wrong. But the risk is part of the fun! 🤪
I definitely know when to completely erase curse words from my vocabulary, like in front of grandparents, at work, or at church. There is still a huge sensitivity out there for some people. Some people just think that using “bad words” is bad manners, but some people believe that cursing is a sin. As many of y’all know, Christian expectations run deep over here in my world. And, yes, I have heard some people say they “know Taylor Swift isn’t a Christian because she curses.”
Identifying as Christian has everything to do with how you view God and the world; it’s not about which actions will make you go to Hell. Someone can be a person of faith and curse in the same way that someone can be a person without faith and choose not to curse for whatever reason.
“I’m just human buried in denial.
I judge people and I read the bible.”
I often feel like a bridge between two types of people: the religious people and the secular people. I am not religious enough for my religious friends and I feel too religious to my non-religious friends. I don’t talk about demons nor pray at every meal; I don’t read the bible every morning at 5am or quote scripture when my friends are in distress. But I do pray and feel God’s presence. I am someone who has Jesus tattooed on her body and if someone were to ask for my testimony, I would tell them how God has been with me my whole life.
I know that Jesus talk can come across weird or pressuring and that is the last thing I want anyone to feel when talking to me. Even knowing that I was a Christian made my teaching coworkers watch what they say about me, creating an awkward silence if I walked into a conversation because they assumed I would judge them or become uncomfortable. This was mostly about language, and I can’t believe that there is so much that people assume of others based on labels…
I don’t have a perfect ending to this week’s post (and if you read all the way to the end, you’ll know where my head is), but I hope your week is better than the fucking shit show I will be walking into on Monday morning… 🫣
🌻ART SHOW & TELL🌻
Well, it isn’t my art but I did commission an artist friend of mine to revamp my blog branding! 🤩 THEY ARE SO TALENTED!! Excited to bring a more accurate, personalized version of my vibes to my blog. Nothing to show just yet… 🤗
Time for some TLCCC💕
Treating myself to: Well, I am being treated this Mother’s Day with new shoes, breakfast with my boyz, church service at the wonderful Foothills Disciples, and a dinner later tonight at one of my favorite places…
Listening to: TTPD joining the tour (especially on my worst day in a while) blew my mind in the best way! I will continue to feel fully understood by a blondie I borderline despised in my youth. I missed out on this for too long! Making up for it now… 😅🙈🥰 I did make a playlist of my current ratings of the songs, if you’re at all interested.
Crafting: I am completely hyperfocused on my album. Instrumentation and production may start more around the end of summer, but—in the meantime— I‘m working on finalizing the chords and lyrics and rehearsing with Zach. 🥰
Craving: DAMMIT GABI I’M HOOKED (I sub for coconut milk)
Caring SO much about: Figuring out what is upppp inside my soul. Inner child work? Parts work? Shadow work? I am down for all that work!! But through all that, reminding myself that I am worthy of love now and have always been. My new therapist? 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Lastly, as a note, I am very much struggling right now. I have been put in a really awkward and honestly triggering state at my place of work and I feel like I am walking into battle this week. It feels like shit is really about to hit the fan.
In need of hugs, prayers, and good vibes as I navigate my emotions and the confrontational situations I will be facing this coming week…. 😣
I will be over here praying for no shit and no fan👍🏽 ❤️🩹