Saturday, June 18, 2011

SOAP IN MY MOUTH

There is a bit of fire that resides inside me.  It rears its head from time to time.  Hopefully I don't waste that type or intensity of fire on meaningless or trivial irritants.  Usually when it does surface I am blunt and passionate about whatever the subject matter.  On vacation this past week I thoroughly enjoyed the break from regular life, work, demands, people.  It was really the first vacation we have taken since being married earlier this year.  Every other trip we have taken involved going to see family.  So, this time alone with each other was precious and welcomed.  I do use some blunt words from time to time (you can read about my trifecta of swear words that I use in a post from 2010).  Really though never to do I use the f*** word.  It seems overused, mostly by teenagers, when there is really not dire call for it.  Like any word in the English language, overuse diminishes its effectiveness to carry emotion or paint a picture.  After witnessing days of work being dragged into vacation, passion welled inside of me over my husband's employees continuing to email and message him while on vacation.  I felt it was rude, disrespectful, crossing a boundary and was stealing my husband's mind during a time that he needed, both mentally and physically, to recharge.  When yet another text came through his I Phone my switch was triggered and I think in love for Doug, wanting to have him to myself with no "work" for a week and in frustration over people's insensitivity to boundaries, I blurted out, "What the f*** is wrong with those people!!".  I then proceeded to say out loud with some verbal punctuation, what was wrong with them.  Trying to keep my anger in for 20 miles or so, I was hoping to let it go without expressing anger over it.  That did not happen.  We talked through the issue and how to eliminate it while we ate lunch at a great European cafe.  Driving in the car later my husband got tickled recounting my moment of white hot passionate anger and what flew out of my mouth.  I apologized again for how I said what I did, but not for the gist of what I said.  He smiled and let me know that he actually found it yet another thing in me he loved deeply - my passion over things that really matter.  Behind that f*** was love for him he said.  That I valued what we had, wanted to protect it fiercely and knew that boundaries in that area were important, made my potty mouth a thing of beauty to him.   I found myself every now and then that day and the day after apologizing yet again for what flew out of my mouth.  Every time I was met with him smiling and his assurance that I can just be me - fiery, blunt at times and full of passion.   

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Been there for many, many years and times. Oh, how I know that feeling!!