To Curse or Not to Curse

I curse now, but only at myself, and not very often. I think I’ve let a few slip out recently, but no one was around. Most of the time it’s all in my head.

Cursing was something I was taught not to do when I was little. In Jamaica, there are several bad words, not just one, and we can mix them up, or only say one part. When I was little I was okay with just saying that part. I thought that was allowed. It wasn’t a complete bad word after all. I could say it. There were also words that were vulgar. They were bad words, but not real bad words. You could say those around children, and old enough children could say them too. I said those.

At sixteen I got baptized. The Bible says we aren’t supposed to use foul language. No cursing for me, of any kind. Coming to America I learned that hell and ass were bad words. Bitch too. Okay I’ll try not to say those. And I did try.

Somehow, after being a Christian for about three years…I don’t know. It changed, and I’m cursing again. Not the big ones though. Not really. Not all the time. Not for other people to hear.

If I’m suddenly frightened one slips out, it’s always been like that. Most of the time if one slips out, I didn’t think about it first. If I think about it, I usually stop it before it leaves my mouth.

But I’m cursing again, calling myself names, and never failing to mention that I could have done better.

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