I was about to save this post for later, but Kitty commented, so I wanted to write down a little bit more. This is not an answer, just some piece of sharing, maybe, if it makes any sense.
So here we go.
Well, actually I am a person that curse a lot. I curse constantly. But quietly. Why? Because I was always taught that cursing is bad, like bad bad. As being “well educated” I was even scared of the idea of me cursing. But little by little, I started to enjoy it. It is such a relief, and it helps the brain working well. But I still keep the habit of not saying it out loud. Somehow it is a habit, but also I want to be considered as a “decent ” human being, probably.
Yeah, so I curse a lot. I think we all should do it naturally. But I also care a lot about how people might look at me.
Am I afraid of being judged? Hell yeah I am. But it is not like a random person can do that to me. My loved ones, however, can hurt me badly. Because they matter. Because the last thing I ever want to do is to fail them. Because I want them to be proud. My poor Russian vocabulary almost fades out, but I remember the word доволен, satisfied or pleased as in English. If they are, I am, too. I never thought I would be so attached to my loved ones, as I grew up with this kind of weird individualism. Then I realized that noone should be lonely, especially out there there are people who are willing to love you. And the only way to answer love is to love in return. And I do it in an extreme way, cause I am also obsessed with fairness…
I am a very lucky one, having a loving family who loves me back unconditionally and never asks for much. I have a number of friends who are always patient enough with me, whose names I can come up with immediately when thinking about an example of great friends.
One particular part of being so close with anyone is that you have a right to listen to their stories, intimately. Good ones, bad ones, guilty ones. What haunts me the most is the judging. Not for me. With the truthful yet hurtful words. And that exactly is what frightens me. What if I was the one was executed by those words? Why do they see things in some certain ways that I can’t?
So that, on one hand, gives me more dimensions to look at things, makes me more careful. On another side, it makes me over sensitive with words and comments. Words, especially those adjectives, it can be played with, it can nurture you, yet can cut you open and leave you bleeding.