Cursing: What it Means to Me

Today I ask myself an important question. Why do I cuss? I don't like to do it. It does not add any value or meaning to my life. It makes me look like a troll when I do it. This past week when I went to counseling my counselor asked me why I cussed. She asked me to reflect over it this week, and we will discuss it next time I see her. I have been thinking about her question for 4 days now and I can't say that I have an answer. I do know that when I was a child my mother cussed like a sailor. Everyone knew it. And I mean EVERYONE. For us, it was our normal. But in reality, it is quite far from normal. One of the memories I have of myself is when I was like 4 or 5 years old. I was in my room at my childhood home. The bed was against the left wall, and didn't have sheets on it. We (me and my sis) were all playing...my cousin may have been there too...I don't remember. What I do remember is I was jumping up and down on the bed saying the F word. I was 5 years old. Today I have pointed out to you another one of my strongholds. Cussing is ingrained in me to my core. It is almost as bad as my eating habits. I can say that cussing is not something that I want to have in my life and I think it'll take me a long time to overcome it but I am up for the challenge. In the end of this journey, I simply want to be a better and improved me. I want to be the best Jessica I can be for my future husband and children.