I like to curse! Yeah, I said it. If you didn’t understand what I said, I’ll repeat it. I, Connie Palmer, mother, grandmother and a woman in her sixties, like to curse.
Oh I know that it’s not supposed to be acceptable, especially in public. It’s said that a person who curses lacks a vocabulary, or even worse lacks class. Cursing is said to be disrespectful, offensive, unacceptable, blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all.
When I was growing up in the South, the only people that I heard who cursed in public were those who didn’t go to church, and were headed for hell anyway. That included the people who drank liquor, especially on the weekends, and of course the “loose women” in town. For reasons that I never understood it seemed more acceptable for men to curse than it was for women. Females were expected to be ladies no matter their profession, and cursing was just not ladylike.
I remember that I used to watch with wonder and envy those “fast tailed women” who used to sashay around our small town cursing and smoking and drinking like men, and not caring what anybody thought. None of the good folks in town respected them; but being what they called a “spirited child” I envied the freedom they seemed to have to be themselves and I became a closet curser. Oh, I didn’t use the big “bad” words, and would have gotten the whipping of my life if I had said any of them out loud. Yet, an occasional hell or damn might form in my mind, but I was too scared of a punishment from home and from God to let them slide from my tongue. Still, they were there ready and wanting to burst loose.
When I was in my mid teens I got married and had four children in less than eight years—you talk about wanting to curse! Raising those kids and handling a husband stretched me to the limit. I managed to do pretty well not saying what I really wanted to say, but on rare occasions I did let loose a good one.
I made it through those years, with my cursing vocabulary still relatively small. How I did it I still don’t know, but as the kids left the house and after my husband died, I noticed that gradually my cursing vocabulary increased. Presently, I’m pretty good at putting a variety of curse words together, especially for inconsiderate drivers, sanctimonious hypocrites and stupid politicians.
I find that a few good curse words express my feelings, quick and fast. There is no misunderstanding when I make my point. I know that for some cursing is still not acceptable, but at this point in my life I just don’t care. There are some words that I still won’t say, but in today’s society anything goes and it probably wouldn’t matter if I did.
Maybe I should feel guilty about being a curser, especially since I still go to church. I guess that makes me one of those hypocrites that I have a few chosen words for, but who’s going to hell first? Cursers or killers? Muse on that!
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