Also, had to laugh at my mother. Having been disciplined as a kid for using the word "bloody", I was shocked to hear her repeatedly refer to a neighbour as a tw@ - turns out she thought it was just another form of "twit"... ... goodness knows how many other people she'd been using that in front of!
Your mum went straight from “mind your language!” to unknowingly lobbing one of the nation’s deadliest swear grenades into the cul-de-sac. There should be a badge for this level of linguistic mayhem.
Definitely double standards here. I was once taken aside by my manager, an unnamed colleague having apparently taken offence at my language. My team at this point was almost entirely ex-forces, and my use of expletives as "verbal highlighter" was mild compared with the rest of the team, so I can only imagine that it sounds worse coming out of the mouth of a woman. Remembering their way with words raises another point, on the weaponisation of otherwise innocent words. "Make me a sammich (sandwich)" as a nasty way to put woman down, but also i will never hear the word "pineapple" in the same way again, having heard it uttered in the context that the speaker would like to insert one an uncomfortable orifice of the person causing offence.
Your opening paragraphs made me laugh out loud and reminded me how my nephew, as a toddler thought socks were called fuck for a while!
I grew up in a non-swearing house with endless schooling in what ladies should, and should never do, while my brothers could apparently do anything. It took me a while to hone my swearing skills, and my ex-husband walked a very, very, very fine line when he laughed at early attempts, but I personally found the combination of menopause, an auto-immune disease diagnosis and a succession of lying men unleashed fluency and I’ve never looked back. It’s a release valve, and helps us keep going.
"The contradiction is that we still expect mothers to be contained when motherhood itself is anything but." So well put Danusia. I remember when my daughters were little (I have triplets, too, now in their thirties and themselves mothers) wondering when I'd feel okay about swearing in front of them, muttered oaths aside. I think it happened in the later years of their primary schooling, by which point they'd heard plenty of colourful vocabulary from their classmates. Similarly with my son, who arrived 15 years later. I reined it in while he was little. But that self-restraint is a contradiction. It's such an intense time. I vented in my diary instead.
I haven’t yet worked out how old your triplets are and how many years you’ve been parenting, Danusia. I need to find time to visit your earlier posts. Awesome to know another mum whose family includes triplets.
This! "It’s punctuation and a pressure valve." 👏👏
Right? Sometimes a well-placed swear is the only punctuation that actually lands. 😁
Also, had to laugh at my mother. Having been disciplined as a kid for using the word "bloody", I was shocked to hear her repeatedly refer to a neighbour as a tw@ - turns out she thought it was just another form of "twit"... ... goodness knows how many other people she'd been using that in front of!
Kathleen, I’m crying.
Your mum went straight from “mind your language!” to unknowingly lobbing one of the nation’s deadliest swear grenades into the cul-de-sac. There should be a badge for this level of linguistic mayhem.
Definitely double standards here. I was once taken aside by my manager, an unnamed colleague having apparently taken offence at my language. My team at this point was almost entirely ex-forces, and my use of expletives as "verbal highlighter" was mild compared with the rest of the team, so I can only imagine that it sounds worse coming out of the mouth of a woman. Remembering their way with words raises another point, on the weaponisation of otherwise innocent words. "Make me a sammich (sandwich)" as a nasty way to put woman down, but also i will never hear the word "pineapple" in the same way again, having heard it uttered in the context that the speaker would like to insert one an uncomfortable orifice of the person causing offence.
The double standard is almost comical if it weren’t so predictable:
Men swear → colourful.
Women swear → complaint form.
And yes, the real rot is in the “innocent” language turned nasty.
“Sammich” used like that makes my skin crawl.
And pineapple… I know exactly what you mean.
Brilliant read!
Thank you - thrilled it landed ❤️🔥
Oh my mother used to wash our mouths, too! I love every piece of this, as always!
Those soap memories stay in the teeth, don’t they? Delighted you enjoyed every word!
Your opening paragraphs made me laugh out loud and reminded me how my nephew, as a toddler thought socks were called fuck for a while!
I grew up in a non-swearing house with endless schooling in what ladies should, and should never do, while my brothers could apparently do anything. It took me a while to hone my swearing skills, and my ex-husband walked a very, very, very fine line when he laughed at early attempts, but I personally found the combination of menopause, an auto-immune disease diagnosis and a succession of lying men unleashed fluency and I’ve never looked back. It’s a release valve, and helps us keep going.
“Socks” as “fuck” has absolutely finished me. Peak toddler linguistics.
And yes that double standard training programme we were all put through… my god.
I love your fluency origin story. Menopause + medical bullshit + male nonsense is a hell of a language tutor.
I’m so glad this piece met you where you are. 💎
"The contradiction is that we still expect mothers to be contained when motherhood itself is anything but." So well put Danusia. I remember when my daughters were little (I have triplets, too, now in their thirties and themselves mothers) wondering when I'd feel okay about swearing in front of them, muttered oaths aside. I think it happened in the later years of their primary schooling, by which point they'd heard plenty of colourful vocabulary from their classmates. Similarly with my son, who arrived 15 years later. I reined it in while he was little. But that self-restraint is a contradiction. It's such an intense time. I vented in my diary instead.
A fellow triplet-raiser — solidarity!
And yes: the self-restraint we’re asked to maintain is almost comic once you see the playground in action.
Your diary-venting made me smile; we all need a place to be uncontained. Thanks for being an inspiration Wendy.
I haven’t yet worked out how old your triplets are and how many years you’ve been parenting, Danusia. I need to find time to visit your earlier posts. Awesome to know another mum whose family includes triplets.
Oof. Somehow missed your words here.
Confession: I was absurdly pleased to see you here Wendy!
I’ve been parenting for what feels like several geological eras, and my triplets are cusp-teens now.
So lovely to meet another mother with triplets in her story. Come raid the archives whenever you feel like it.
You should check out what Tony Robbins has to say about swearing. Super interesting.
Tony’s swearing is fascinating because he gets to use it as a tool, while women get judged for using it as a release valve.
Same word, very different stakes.
Thank you for bringing it in Henny!