A Look into God's Mirror

Hi Steph,
  I believe in the power of our thoughts. The way we think determines the way we see the world, ourselves, and our choices. For example, a person that sees themselves the victim of their circumstances will see their choices as limited to what happens to them rather than what they can do. When I was a little girl, I learned a song about our thoughts:

If on occasion you have found

Your language is in question,

Or ugly thoughts come to your mind,

Then here's a good suggestion:

Just hum your favorite hymn,

Sing out with vigor and vim,

And you will find it clears your mind.

Hum your favorite hymn.

It's a simple child's song, but I still on occasion mentally hum a song when a gossipy or mean or sexual thought comes to my mind. Beyond being a good way to distract myself of these negative thoughts, it also serves as a label and a reminder: these thoughts are not appropriate, are not helpful, and are not godly. 

In regard to our thoughts, we often talk about thoughts and images of a pornographic nature. We talk of pornography as an epidemic, as an addiction, and as an imprisonment. But I'm not going to write about pornography today. I want to discuss a different epidemic of our thoughts that I see again and again, particularly among women. 

The epidemic is negative self-talk.

negative self-talk: the pervasive need to regularly think mean thoughts of oneself, often related to physical appearance but can also be related to any part of one's being. 


I hear my dear, amazing friends and family members say things all the time that make me want to scream out: "That is a absurd lie!" They'll say things like, "Man, I'm really fat" or "Why would any guy want to date me?" or "I'm too ugly for anyone to notice me." If these things are coming out of their mouths, how many other mean things are they thinking inside their heads?

I hear a lot of people speak to women about how wonderful they are. It's true. Women are wonderful! Sometimes, I think this is done to build up women and boost self-esteem. While I think this approach can be beneficial, I'm not going to sugarcoat anything with this post. 

Ladies, these negative thoughts are evil. They are not appropriate. They are not helpful. They are not godly. These thoughts are from the Adversary. Plain and simple. If we suggest to men (and women), that they should remove an unclean, immoral thought or image from their mind immediately, then we women (and men) need to remove these negative, self-degrading thoughts from our minds just as rapidly. Both these type of thoughts--the immoral and the self-degrading--come from the same source: the Devil. 

My friends, my sisters, you are capable of so much more than a brain filled with thoughts of inability, inadequacy, and inferiority. Your brain was meant to be used for so much more than that! Think of all the energy you could reroute to other things. Instead of being consumed by how you looked at a party, you could be consumed by how to befriend others at a party. Instead of letting your voice go quiet in insecurity, you can let your voice rise in words of comfort and love. You are the hands of Christ. Why are you throwing away that ability by focusing on what you think you can't do? It's selfish. 

All of these negative thoughts keep us focused on the wrong thing--ourselves. There's a world of people around us just hoping for someone to care for them, but most of those someones are too caught up in thinking they are worthless to notice. Just like pornography, negative self-talk hurts our relationships.  The resulting low confidence of this self-bullying does not allow friends and partners to truly address problems in order to protect weak self-esteems. Open communication and solutions are stopped at the mirror of lost potential that your wife (or husband) stares into all day.

Several years ago, I had an awakening to my own negative self-talk. A wise professor explained that this practice was simply a habit. It was not an inevitable, insurmountable condition. So, just as I had set other goals to brush my teeth everyday and clean my room regularly, I set the goal to remove the negative thoughts from my head. The first thing I had to do was label it: this thought is leading me away from my potential and from what God wants of me. In that sense, it is a sin. Once labelled, it was easier to want to quickly replace it. Sometimes I would hum a song, but more often than not, I would think of something else, like school, work, or what was going to happen in the last Harry Potter book. And then I repeated this process again and again and again. And again. Like any bad habit, it was extremely hard to break. Thinking negatively of myself was such a common practice that it seemed a part of my personality, something impossible to truly remove. But I kept working at it. I failed many, many times, but instead of giving in to those thoughts of inability--"You're weak. How can you win this battle?"--I kept going. 

It took a long time, but years later, I can say that negative thoughts are uncommon and passing for me. They sometimes come into my mind, but I pay them little attention. They no longer are the natural route for my mind to go down and focus on. And the fight has been completely worth it. I am free. 

To anyone reading this, imprisoned by a constant barrage of mean thoughts: you can be free of them too. If you're out there thinking, "But it's true, I am fat (or ugly or stupid or socially awkward or whatever else it may be)," I would reiterate that these thoughts are lies that are not from God. Jesus would look at you and see not a fat or stupid or socially awkward person but a complex being full of individual potential to fulfill His needs. He would see a worthy disciple to do His work. He would see someone He died for. That's what you are. Don't loose sight of that mission by only seeing all that you think you aren't. You are worth fighting for, so start the fight.

A look for truth in God's mirror.

With sincere love for the divine beings around me,

Amanda Kae

Create Your Own Religion: A How-to

Hey Amanda,

The Twenty-Something Crisis of Faith should be a thing. Because at the time you are completely convinced that you are the only one going through it. You have the uneasy feeling that if a diabolical entitiy exists he is laughing at you. And in the back of your mind is the growing surety that no matter how hard you try, you can never go back to the way things were before.  And you'd be right. You can't.

You can't have the faith you had as a child again. "Jesus said love everyone" won't be enough to guide you through the morally ambiguous world you navigate. The aphorisms aren't always true.  And the elegant simplicity of your childhood religion reveals itself to be a complex balance of opposing mandates and your worried you can't trust it.  But this isn't the time panic. I know you want to. You feel guilty and scared. But don't worry.

Your religious life is about to get awesome.

Because when you were a child, you needed the hand-holding, someone to tell you what God wanted from you. You needed those aphorisms. But not anymore. It's time to draw up the blueprints for your own understanding of God.

Don't worry, I'm not encouraging moral relativity.  I am completely convinced that there are some absolute truths in this world. Nor am I suggesting that organized religion is bad. Or even that orthodoxy is unimportant.

What I'm saying is that within all religions there is a built-in seam allowance, and it can  be tailored to your soul. Because Jesus of Nazareth talked about sparrows with compassion (Matt. 10:29) and He also whipped the sacrilegious (John 2:13-17).  Tender kindness, and fierce devotion. They are both Christian ideals--which one would you emphasize? Which one do you need more of?

Jesus is complicated. WWJD?  Isn't that the question of a lifetime?
Temple Incident by Cosmas Damian Asam

So here's the how to:

1. Read for yourself everything you've been used to getting second-hand. Get your hands on a bible and read it. You don't need anyone to tell you what Jesus taught (or Buddha or Muhammad for that matter). Read it yourself or you'll never know know what it teaches you.

2. Embrace what makes you a better, happier person. And accept that that won't necessarily be the same thing that makes your mom a better, happier person.  Many different fruits have the same vitamins. Just because something inspires you, it doesn't make it inspirational to others. It doesn't make it wrong either, and the inverse is also true. You don't have to worry when something doesn't speak to your soul like it does to someone you care about, because...

3. We are Individual, with Individual Worth. God made all of us, and He made us dissimilar. The variety of godly virtues are  taught by the various passions that drive all of us. Some are more committed to Justice, Compassion, Stewardship, Obedience, or Sacrifice than others, and its the plurality of  living examples that makes us all better people. As we share what God looks like through our eyes, we gain a fuller, more beautiful rendering of who He actually is.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know [Him] even as also I am known. (1 Cor. 13:12)

And just as a reminder to those in the throes of a crisis of faith- sometimes you only have to figure out what you want to believe. Hang in there.

-Stephanie











 

Modesty: you're doing it wrong

Hey Amanda,

Sometimes I get so frustrated with human beings that I decide to give up on people for a while and only associate with fictional characters (kidding. ...mostly).

Modesty.

I actually really like modesty as a principle. I don't understand why people have to make it all misogynistic and awful. Look, modesty is not about clothes or lack of clothes. Modesty is saying "my body is not the most important thing about me." Modesty is saying "I'm worthy of attention for who I am not what I look like." So "modest is the hottest" actually completely undermines the value of the principle. As is "help our Christian brothers."

Modesty isn't a favor a woman does for a man.  Modesty is sticking it to the messed up patriarchy we live in where a woman is first assessed aesthetically. Modesty should train you to rely on the inherent value of being a divine creation.  I care if I'm compassionate. I care if I'm intelligent. I care if I'm creative. Sexy is irrelevant because I'm a fantastically interesting human being and that's all that should matter. That is the point of modesty. Getting into the specifics of inseam and shoulder coverage is a distraction.

And blaming a woman's dress for a man's lust, especially when those clothes easily fall within the realm of normal apparel... well, I think this video pretty much covers my opinion  on that front.

Keep it classy,
Stephanie

P.S.

ravishing- adj. a very threatening compliment. Just putting that out there. 

New Normal

Hey Steph,
  Have you ever had a moment that you wish you could go back and redo? Like a car accident. The few times I've been in a car accident, I always think, "Man, that was so stupid. If I'd just put a little less pressure on the gas or double-checked my rear-view mirrors." Same thing goes with stubbing my toe. The agony of pain after stubbing a toe makes me regret the fact that I didn't practice my walking more studiously.
      While the lost money and the extreme physical pain of these two examples can make me want to get in the TARDIS and redo those moments, I've been thinking about bigger things that we do that cause sorrow in our lives. As you know (though not a ton of others know), four years ago I broke off an engagement to a boy I had dated for about a year. For months leading up to this called-off engagement, I felt trapped in a pit of despair created by uncertainty. Nearly every moment of every day I felt this weight on my chest, pushing down on my soul and eking out my store of hope. And when I finally figured out that I didn't want to get married to this particular amazing guy, I wasn't quite free from these feelings yet. It was as if this tear that had gone through my heart had also torn apart the reality of the world I lived in. Happiness was not something that I just had. I had to work for it now. Who I was seemed to be an undefinable entity: I didn't know. What or who was God? And what did He have to do with me and my broken life? I awoke each day to a shattered world all around me, and I worked to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of this world.
        Most days looked like this: I woke up. Felt that weight on my chest. Tried to push it aside with positive thoughts. Went to work. Threw myself in anything that distracted me from all the uncertainties and doubts in my head. Made it to my lunch break. Called Mom. Inevitably cried to her--and oftentimes whined to her. Went back to work. Flung myself into scripture study, grasping for any side pieces of my puzzle to help frame what God was and cling to the hope that that provided. Went to sleep. I repeated this practice every day for several months.

        During the course of all this, I often thought, "Why didn't I break up with him that one time I thought he was annoying when we'd only been dating for three weeks?" It's true that I thought about breaking up with him but it only lasted about four hours--and it was totally me running away from commitment. But whether it would have been a good idea or not, it didn't matter. I was where I was and wishing that I wasn't there wasn't going to change anything.
        I easily romanticize my past life. I think of my life before this happened, and I think of how sure I was in the world and in God. And it's true that I was, but it wasn't all bliss. That girl also hated her body and thought she was weak. She had no peace about the future either.
        My friend who works in physical therapy told me about a term they use in her profession. Many people she works with have gone through some event or disease that leaves them physically weakened. In many cases instead of talking about full recovery, they talk about reaching their new normal--a new level of physical capability that's not quite as capable as they use to be. When trying to work through trials, I've found this viewpoint to be helpful in moving forward. Instead of bemoaning my lost former self, I can accept what I am now--and the beauty of having seen the rough side of life is that you value all the good things more than your younger, less-tried self did. To keep with the physical therapy metaphor, you might have lost your ability to physically walk, but your tried soul can come out of this more full, knowledgeable, and compassionate. The trade-off of a scarred heart is strengthened character that you couldn't have gotten without the pain.
        To be honest, I'm still working on that jigsaw puzzle (It's huge and the pieces are tiny!), trying to put together those sections that are hard to distinguish one piece from another. Before the world shattered for me, I looked on it and it was gorgeous and full of light, but after I'm done putting it back together, one painstaking piece at a time, I think I'll look at it and cherish all those details--black, brown, gold, and green--that I worked tirelessly to fit inside the masterpiece.

Love you, Steph.

Cheers,

Amanda

I don't know, I believe

So  in Mormonism, once a month the main church service is a testimony meeting. The microphone is open to anyone that wants to say something. Often people talk about an especially challenging time and how God has helped them, or how they’ve felt especially blessed. But the whole meeting is supposed to revolve around testifying about Jesus (although I’m not really sure what the preposition should be there--testifying for, to, of…)

And when I was little I got up a lot, because I liked to talk, and I liked Jesus, and it seemed like a pretty good opportunity. As I’ve gotten older I realized that there are social considerations around testimony meeting that shouldn’t matter but do.  And part of this uncomfortable feeling as I’ve gotten older is my choice of verb.

Jesus Walks on Water by Ivan Aivazovsky

Most people say “I know.” And I don’t. I believe.

There are some religious things I know. Like I know that human beings can’t possibly be the wisest, most compassionate creatures in the universe. And I know that each human life is valuable. I “know” these things, because if I believed otherwise there would be no point in living. No point in having children. No point in being sad about Syria. No point in being anything but psychopathically hedonistic other than gaining the fickle approval of my peers. Yes, I know that there are Athiests that live happy, compassionate lives. I know them and respect them.  But I wouldn’t be one of them.

So to me it’s not a choice. Athieism is as off the table to me as joining the flat earth society.

I do have a choice to believe that there’s a God that’s actively involved and concerned about my life. So I do. And I will say that often, I feel there is evidence to support that belief. Usually in the form of a sense of serenity that replaces internal turmoil. But since I’m human, I also doubt that serenity as soon as its gone. Occasionally in the panic of wondering if I’ve manufactured divinity out of biology, I feel that odd, out of body calm again. And when I put words to that impulse it sounds something like “Don’t be an idiot, I love you. It’s me.”  I’ve had that experience so often that I can pretty comfortably say “I know God loves me.” And just following through logically, since I’m not particularly loveable among all the people on the planet: “I know that God loves all of us.”

And there are lots of Theists in general, Christians, and Mormons in particular that feel that through the evidence of experience they Know about many aspects of their faith. But I usually stick to believe. Not because I think any of those things are “unknowable.” Since I believe in angels and miracles, I certainly have to believe that there are people that Know. I’m just not one of them.

For a long time, I thought this made me a second-rung Christian because I couldn’t commit to knowing Jesus. But thankfully, Jesus saved me a seat in Christianity: “blessed are they who shall believe in your words because that ye shall testify that ye have seen me, and that ye know that I am.” (3 Ne. 12:2) 

I’m really grateful for the people that Know. But I’m also really grateful for the people that believe. People like me that through the quandary of reality have a hard time knowing, but still make the choice to give it a go.

Evangelical Athiests often point to the large percentage of scientists that are Athiest as a selling point. Ironically,  this makes me think, “Look! There are extremely well educated, evidenced-minded, skeptical people out there, that despite the pressure of their colleagues still choose to believe in God!” Don’t get me wrong, that’s a lousy reason to believe in God, I just find it comforting after I choose to keep doing so. Because faith is paradoxical. Natural and alien, easy and tremendously difficult.

I will tell you that I am a child of this century, a child of disbelief and doubt. I am that today and will remain so until the grave. How much terrible torture this thirst for faith has cost me and costs me even now, which is all the stronger in my soul the more arguments I can find against it. And yet, God sends me sometimes instants when I am completely calm; at those instants I love and feel loved by others, and it is at those instances that I have shaped for myself a Credo where everything is clear and sacred for me. This Credo is very simple, here it is: to believe that nothing is more beautiful, profound, sympathetic, reasonable, manly and more powerful than Christ.  

- Fyodor Dostoevsky

Pretty mandolin music! 

Steph

Hannah

Hey Steph,
          Today I'm going step away from our normal format of definitions to focus on an awesome woman instead. On the advent of my 26th birthday I made a list of 26 goals I would do in the next year. One of them was to study three different women and share my new-found knowledge on this blog. The first woman I studied was Hannah of Bible fame. What a strong example of womanhood in a culture that we don't particularly see as the most empowering to females!
          To start, let me give you a short bio of Hannah's life:

          Hannah--in what seems to be an epidemic among Biblical matriarchs--is barren. She wants nothing more than to be a mother. She has a supportive husband, Elkanah, but he doesn't seem to understand the extent of Hannah's sorrow. Hannah goes to the temple to pray and vows to God the life of her child in service if she is able to bear a child. Whereupon, she is immediately called drunken by the high priest. (Bet that she felt lower than low after that.) Once Eli, the high priest, discerns that Hannah is sincere in her plea to God, he tells her that her desire will be granted and sends her on his way. And it was. Hannah bears Samuel, the future prophet of Israel and fulfills her vow, giving him to Eli to be a priest of God.
          So here's what I've learned about Hannah. She is an example of confidence. Her desire of motherhood is in line with the great legacy of her foremothers. She is of the heritage of Eve, the mother of all living. She wants to fulfill that calling. And her society recognizes the significance of this calling. If a woman was not a mother, she was seen as worthless, not providing anything to the society. When Eli calls Hannah out for being drunken on the temple grounds, she responds, "Count not thine handmaid for a daughter of Belial" (1 Sam. 1:16). Now, belial in Hebrew has three meanings: base wickedness, good-for-nothing, and worthlessness. Her response doesn't just bespeak her innocence in being drunk, but it confidently declares who she is. "I am not worthless. I am good-for-something." Her society is not teaching her that she has worth, but somehow Hannah knows she is worthwhile. I believe Hannah knows who she is because she has been diligent in her relationship with her Father in Heaven, who shares with her that she is a daughter of God.
          Hannah is also an example of persistent faith. From information given about Elkanah's other wife, Peninah, and her multiple children, it is clear that Hannah has been waiting years to be a mother. This inference is reinforced by the vow she makes. You don't just wake up one morning and make a vow to give up your only offspring in order to be a mother. That vow is not made lightly. You would vow so many other vows before that vow. You'd vow your own life to one of service before making that vow. You would vow to give up all your possessions before giving up your son. Heck, you'd vow to give up watching Dr. Who and reading Harry Potter before you'd give up the child you are so desperate to have. It's possible Hannah had made other vows before, and I would be shocked if this was Hannah's first hysterical plea at the temple. No. I believe Hannah had cried hundreds, thousands, of prayers. In all of this, it would be so easy to curse God, who seemingly withholds the fulfillment of His own commandment to multiply and replenish the earth. It would be so easy to turn your back on the Creator who mandated the law which now makes you worthless in your society for having not fulfilled it. But Hannah didn't do that. She continually turned to God. And finally, at the end of her rope, her faith was proven right. She bore a son, Samuel, and she gave him up to the priesthood.

          Now Samuel is an important character in the Old Testament. We know him for hearing the voice of God as a boy, but he will be known for much more than this. At the time Samuel enters the temple, the priesthood is in a sorry state. Eli is a mediocre high priest, and his two sons are outright blasphemous. The state of Israel mimics this. Israel is fragmented, seeing themselves as several different tribes rather than one. They have turned to idols and false Gods. It is Samuel that would clean up the pedigree of the priests and provide a spiritual leader who point Israel back to Jehovah. In Old Testament culture, it seems that the women are the ones who name their children. It is not a coincidence that Hannah named her son Samuel or "name of God," for Samuel would be the one to point the Israelites to the right name of God, Jehovah. He anoints King Saul and then David as the first kings of Israel, which unifies the land and makes Israel one of the political powers in what would be called the Old World. God needed Samuel to be where he was. He needed Hannah to do what she did.
          Steph, so many times I'm stuck in a place of waiting, wondering why I am too weak to overcome this trial and escape it. But what if I'm like Hannah? God needed a man like Samuel in the priesthood, but Eli's descendants weren't cutting it. He needed someone else. Hence, Hannah's situation. Hannah wasn't just asked to be barren for a season. She was barren for years--for so long that she vows to give up her son if she is able to have him! It was the very trial of waiting that allowed Hannah to be what God needed her to be. She wouldn't make that vow after one year of patience and sorrow but after many, many years of pain. She was not given that trial because she was weak, but because she was strong! Not any woman would make the vow she did. God chose one of his powerhouse daughters to endure and fulfill His needs. In the midst of her longtime turmoil, she was exactly where she was supposed to be for she was becoming a woman that would end up giving her son to God.
          What if I'm "waiting" right where I should be? What if our trials of singlehood, unemployment, disease, prolonged doubt, and childlessness are given us so that we can be exactly where God needs us to be?

Love ya, Steph!

Amanda Kae

P.S. Hannah had more children after Samuel, so she was able to mother in the end.

Reproductive Rights

Hey Amanda,

This is where I alienate myself from literally everyone I have ever met. You see, I have a moderate stance on abortion. I know, how does such a thing even exist? Let me tell you why.

 #1) Legal limits on abortions can be really dangerous.
For instance I know a woman that labored for over 26 hours because they could not stop her contractions and it was illegal to medically assist with the birth of the child because it would technically be a late-term abortion.  The baby who had almost no chance of survival out of the womb to begin with was denied any chance of survival due to the traumatic labor. It very nearly killed the mother as well.

Pregnancies are weird. Circumstances change. "Medically necessary" is hard to define. Crap, "abortion" as strange as it seems, is also hard to define.

#2) Statistically, abortions are often performed on women who can't get their crap together. 
According to the Guttmacher Institute (which I assure you, is the opposite of a Right leaning institution), 48% of US abortions are performed on women that have already had one. That accounts for significantly more than half a million terminated fetuses a year. Obviously, Sex Ed is failing and abortion clinics need more teachers.

#3) Having the right to surgically remove a baby from your womb is perhaps the worst consolation prize in the history of mankind. 
Women have an indelible right to be the gatekeepers to our own bodies. We have a right to refuse anyone in whatever manner for any reason at any time. Let me say that again. Women have the right to refuse anyone in whatever manner for any reason at any time. Let's not forget that these millions of women with unintended pregnancies are also subject to life-threatening infections.

Women desperately deserve the education, resources, and most importantly, the ability to say "No, not without protection." Yeah, fifteen-year-olds shouldn't have to be saddled with parenthood. But they really shouldn't be saddled with HIV, and there's no surgical procedure that can undo that one.

#4) A fertilized egg doesn't have any rights. 
Theologically, I have no idea when a body gains a soul. But, the State has no business trying to determine the answer to that one. Setting aside for a moment the perennial question of who counts as a person-- let's just look a the embryo for what it unequivocally is- an organism. We have several laws to protect non-person organisms. It's not animal cruelty to dump bacteria into an oil spill to help clean it. It is animal cruelty to operate on a hamster without anesthesia.

"Who feels pain" is an interesting philosophical question. It's also one that many neurologists feel they can answer. However, as a word of caution to all of humanity, we've historically been really, despicably bad at answering this question, so let's err on the side of caution. And for that reason, I don't believe that a single-cell can really be protected legally. It has a hard enough time being protected biologically. But, I honestly believe that anything with a heartbeat should be treated humanely, even if you don't believe it should count as a person. That means anesthesia at the very, very least.

#5) Abortion is not a woman's rights issue. 
Yes, by definition, abortion is a woman's issue. However, abortion does nothing to promote a more just and equitable society. Abortion also helps prolong depressing cultural assumptions about the worth of women. In India and China, abortion takes 35 and 25 million more women, respectively, than men. Gendercide is a thing. How is it more legal to say "You can terminate a pregnancy simply because it's unwanted, but you can't terminate that pregnancy due to the reason its unwanted."


I'm not a huge fan of the restrictive laws that have been introduced around the country. But, I'm also disgusted that abortion is being used as a contraceptive method. Even if you don't think a fetus is a person, abortion is like burning a bunch of MRI machines because they still need to be wired. There is so much beauty and potential in those babies. I'm just not sure that tighter legal controls are the way to go about protecting them.

Mostly, I'm a big, BIG fan of education. Sex Ed. Community Outreach programs. Free clinics. Anything that gives women a better understanding for the responsibility of having the coolest organ on the planet, and the ability to watch out for themselves.

All in all, whatever your stance on abortion (which is almost assuredly different than mine), I believe you are trying to make the most moral decision about it, and I don't think you're Hitler.

Let's be good to each other,
Stephanie

Computer generated dolphin fetus...Isn't it cute? (Source)

Did you know that by 20 weeks of age, the female fetus already carries all of the eggs that she will ever have? In essence, a mother carries what will become her grandchildren inside her daughter's womb, insider her own womb.  Man, women are awesome. 

Bowdlerize

Hey Amanda,

You’re getting two words this week, because really they’re just too good to pass up.  

bowdlerize: v. to remove offensive language or content. Named after Thomas Bowdler who infamously created a squeaky-clean, fig-leaved version of the works of Shakespeare.  

minced oath: n. almost swear words. Ironically, usually things you say to sound like a prim English grandmother. Just a heads up poppycock, zounds, and egad, correlate respectively to a particular texture of feces, the wounds of Jesus of Nazareth, and “My God.”

I was thinking lately about how I lack the capability to swear. Not like a 15-year-old boy lacks the capability to swear. I’m actually pretty confident that if I could get swear words to leave my mouth, I'd be pretty good at it. I too could “weave a tapestry of obscenities” that float over Lake Michigan.

I file my own taxes, fill up my gas tank before it gets down to a quarter, am fully responsible for the continued existence of a human child and the phrase “the b-word” actually just came out of my mouth.  Remember that one time we tried to have a conversation about gendered slurs. Which unfortunately didn't get very far. Too much ambiguity between canine mothers and illegitimate sons if you're unwilling to actually say the slurs you're referring to.

Usually, my inability to swear makes me appear to be a more decent human being. Or at least, forces me to be more precise in my insults. However, there exists concepts in the English language that only exist as swears.

For instance:

and

This second one is the more infuriating one for me. You can get by with "professional jerk" or "proactively offensive", but sometimes you just want to give a mildly irreverent compliment. "Hardcore" is a weak substitute.

Have any favorite kid-friendly minced oaths/obscenities? What do you when you can't use the right word?  Get really blankety blank frustrated?

Ciao,

Steph